d been revealed, it seemed probable that it was not death or
bodily injury that he feared, for Peter had seen him stand up at the
window, a fair target for any good marksman, but an interview with this
nocturnal visitor who seemed bent upon bringing it about. Indeed, the
childish bravado of his last speech had voiced a wish, but beneath the
wish Peter had guessed a protest against the inevitable.

Peter acknowledged McGuire's right to seclusion in his own house, but he
found himself wondering whether death for the intruder as proposed by
his employer were a justifiable means of preserving it, especially if
the strange visitor did not himself use violence to gain his ends. And
so, when McGuire presently poured himself another glass of whisky, and
drank it, Peter took the liberty of asking the question.

"I am ignorant of your laws in this country, Mr. McGuire, but doesn't it
seem that short of forcible entry of this house we would hardly be
justified in shooting the man?"

"I take the responsibility for that."

"I understand. But what I was going to propose was a hunt through the
woods to-morrow. A description of this man would be helpful. For
instance, whether he was smoothly shaven or whether he had a
beard--or--or a mustache?"

McGuire scowled.

"The man has a slight growth of beard--of mustache. But what difference
does that make? No one has a right here--without my permission."

Peter sipped at his glass. As he had suspected, there were two of them.

"That's true. But even with this, we can move with more intelligence.
This forest is your property. If we find any person who can't give an
account of himself, we could take him into custody and turn him over to
the proper authorities."

"No. No," cried McGuire. "And have him set loose after a trivial
examination? Little good that would do. This man who is trying to reach
me----"

McGuire stopped suddenly, glaring at his superintendent with bloodshot
eyes, and Peter very politely waited for him to go on. But he brought
his empty glass down on the table with a crash which shattered it.

"He mustn't reach me," he roared. "I won't see him. That's understood.
He's a man I'd have no more compunction about shooting than----"

McGuire, with a curious suddenness, stopped again. Then rose and resumed
his habit of pacing the floor. For a moment it had almost seemed as if
he were on the point of a revelation. But the mood passed. Instead of
speaking further he threw