at ensued! He did not return, and at last, feeling that he had
met a terrable Death, I went down.

I went through the fatal dining room to the pantrey and there found
him not only alive, but putting on a plate some cold roast beef and two
apples.

"I thought we'd have a bite to eat," he said. "I need a little
nourishment before getting back into that puddle to sleep."

"Father!" I said. "How can you talk of food when knowing----"

"Get some salt and pepper," he said, "and see if there is any mustard
mixed. You've had a dream, Bab. That's all. The Case is in the safe, and
William is in his bed, and in about two minutes a cold repast is going
to be in me."

Ye gods!

He is now asleep, and I am writing this at 2 A. M.

I, and I alone, know that there is a Criminal in this house, serving our
meals and quareling with the cook as if a regular Butler, but really
a Spy. And although I cry aloud in my anguish, those who hear me but
maintain that I am having a nightmare.

I am a Voice crying in the Wilderness.

APRIL 15TH: 9 A. M. William is going about as usual, but looks as though
he had not had enough sleep.

Father has told mother about last night, and I am not to have coffee in
the evenings. This is not surprizing, as they have always considered me
from a physical and not a mental standpoint.

My very Soul is in revolt.

6 P. M. This being Sunday, camp did not convene until 3 P. M. and then
but for a short time. We flag-signaled mostly and are now to the letter
E. Also got the gun loaded at last and fired it several times, I giving
the orders as in the book, page 262, in a loud voice:

(1) "Hold the rifle on the mark." (2) "Aim properly." (3) "Squeeze the
Triger properly." (4) "Call the shot."

We had but just started, and Mademoiselle had taken the car and gone
back to the Adams's residence to bring out Mr. Adams, as she considers
gun-shooting as dangerous, when a farmer with to dogs came over a fense
and objected, saying that it was Sunday and that his cows were getting
excited anyhow and would probahly not give any milk.

"These are War times," I said, in a dignafied manner. "And if you are
doing nothing for the country yourself you should at least allow others
to do so."

He was a not unreasonable tipe and this seemed to effect him. For he sat
down on one of our stools and said:

"Well, I don't know about that, miss. You see----"

"Captain," I put in. Because he might as well know that we meant