hink so, and the hand had concluded that it was safest to let well
alone. If it was too cruel It might rouse the sleeping lion which the
owner of that hand knew to exist behind that firm, quiet face.

Presently Peter put his unoccupied hand in his breast-pocket, and
produced a small sachet. "I did something twice," he said, "that I have
felt very meanly about at times. Perhaps you'll forgive me now?" He took
from the sachet, a glove, and a small pocket-handkerchief, and without a
word showed them to Leonore.

Leonore looked at them. "That's the glove I lost at Mrs. Costell's,
isn't it?" she asked gravely.

Peter nodded his head.

"And is that the handkerchief which disappeared in your rooms, at your
second dinner?"

Peter nodded his head.

"And both times you helped me hunt for them?"

Peter nodded his head. He at last knew how prisoners felt when he was
cross-examining them.

"I knew you had them all the time," said Leonore laughing. "It was
dreadfully funny to see you pretend to hunt, when the guilty look on
your own face was enough to show you had them. That's why I was so
determined to find them."

Peter knew how prisoners felt when the jury says, "Not guilty."

"But how did the holes come in them?" said Leonore. "Do you have mice in
your room?" Leonore suddenly looked as worried as had Peter the moment
before.

Peter put his hand in the sachet, and produced a bent coin. "Look at
that," he said.

"Why, it's my luck-piece!" exclaimed Leonore. "And you've spoiled that
too. What a careless boy!"

"No," said Peter. "They are not spoiled to me. Do you know what cut
these holes and bent this coin?"

"What?"

"A bullet."

"Peter!"

"Yes. Your luck-piece stopped it, or I shouldn't be here."

"There," said Leonore triumphantly, "I said you weren't hurt, when the
news of the shooting came, because I knew you had it. I was so glad you
had taken it!"

"I am going to give it back to you by and by," said Peter.

"I had rather that you should have it," said Leonore. "I want you to
have my luck."

"I shall have it just the same even after I've given it to you," said
Peter.

"How?"

"I'm going to have it made into a plain gold ring," replied Peter, "and
when I give it to you, I shall have all your luck."

Then came a silence.

Finally Peter said, "Will you please tell me what you meant by talking
about five years!"

"Oh! Really, Peter," Leonore hastened to explain, in an anxious way, as
if Pete