rewarded by a convulsion of anger on the part
of the guest. "Fool! Idiot!" he screamed. "You trick me in here!
You lie to me!"

"Oh, set down, set down!" interrupted Sallie. "You don't need to get
so het up as all that! I'll get you something to eat. There ain't any
hotel within five miles of here--and a poor one at that!" Thus
protesting and attempting to soothe, Sallie saw the stranger make a
grab for his hat and start for the door, only to find it suddenly shut
and locked in his face. Mr. Chamberlain, moreover, was on the inside,
facing the foreigner.

"If you will step through the house and go out the other way," Mr.
Chamberlain remarked coolly, "it will oblige me. My horse is loose in
the yard, and I'm afraid you'll scare him off. He's shy with
strangers."

The two men measured glances.

"I thought you traveled afoot when pursuing your real estate business,"
sneered the stranger.

"I do, when it suits my purposes," replied Chamberlain.

"What game are you up to, anyway, in this disgusting country?" inquired
the other.

"Ridding it of rascals. This way, please;" and Chamberlain pointed
before him toward the door leading into the hall. As the stranger
turned, his glance fell on Sallie, still carving her veal loaf.
"Idiot!" he said disgustedly.

"Well, I haven't been caught yet, anyhow," said Sallie grimly.

Chamberlain's voice interrupted her. "This way, and then the first
door on the right. Make haste, if you please, Monsieur Chatelard."

At the name, the stranger turned, standing at bay, but Chamberlain was
at his heels. "You see, I know your name. It was supplied me at the
Reading-room. Here--on the right--quickly!"

The hall was dim, almost dark, the only light coming from the open
doorway on the right. Whether he wished or no, Monsieur Chatelard was
forced to advance into the range of the doorway; and once there, he
found himself pushed unceremoniously into the room.

It was a large, cool room, lined with bookcases. Near the middle stood
an oblong table covered with green felt and supporting an old brass
lamp. Four people were in the room, besides the two new-comers. Aleck
Van Camp was on a low step-ladder, just in the act of handing down a
book from the top shelf. Near the step-ladder two women were standing,
with their backs toward the door. Both were in white, both were tall,
and both had abundant dark hair. One of the French windows leading out
on to the porch was open