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"What are you saying, Dido?" asked Battersea, his feeble intellect scared by the fierce gestures and the unknown tongue.,

Major Jen's calls for least. His face was round and red, with a terrific blonde mustache fiercely curled. He had merry blue eyes, sparse hair, more than touched with gray, and an expression of good-humor which was the index to his character. Man, woman and child trusted Jen on the spot, nor was it ever said that such trust was misplaced. Even the most censorious could find no fault with the frank and kindly major, and he had more friends and more pensioners and fewer enemies than any man in the shire. Can any further explanation be required of so simple and easily understood a character?,

"Poor David!" sighed Jen, thinking of the young man cut off in the bloom of his youth.,

"Rain," said Jen, drawing back, "All the better; there will be no spies about, and you can take Miss Dallas home without being observed."

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"Come, come, boys!" said Jen, annoyed at this scene between two hot-headed young men, who were not yet gifted with the self-restraint of experience.,

Major Jen sprang to his feet with a loud cry. This information that Battersea was the criminal took him so utterly by surprise that for the moment he was tongue-tied. Then, when he recalled the feeble and emaciated form of the old tramp, when he recollected his weak intelligence, he altogether declined to believe that such a creature, one so wanting in activity, could have conceived and executed a triple crime--the theft of the devil-stick, the murder of Maurice, the stealing of the body. Battersea had not sufficient craft or strength to do such things. With a shrug of his shoulders the major resumed his seat.,

"I haven't been asked for a speech," she began clearly. "But I do want to say a word or two, if you'll let me.",

"Molly dear," she said with her words literally falling over themselves, "Tom says you would give us some of your dinner left-overs to take for lunch in the car, for we are going to take a run down to Hedgeland to see some awfully fine cattle he has heard will be in the market there. I don't want to ask mother, in case she won't let me go; and his mother, if he asked her, will begin to talk about us. Tom said I was to come to you, and you would understand and arrange it all quickly. He sent his love and all sorts of other messages. Isn't he fond of a joke?" And we kissed and laughed and packed a basket, and kissed and laughed again for good-bye. I felt amused and happy for a few minutes—and also deserted. It's a very good thing for a woman's conceit to find out how many of her lovers are just make-believes. I may have needed Tom's deflection.