shall we sit down and discuss the situation?"

"By all means," said Robert, gaping. "You will find that armchair the
most comfortable."

She seated herself, and her companion was about to follow suit. But he
checked himself, picked up a gaily-colored rug from the sofa, and with a
smile said, "There is no need for even a jailer to catch cold." He threw
it lightly across to Robert, who caught it with a blush. He wished
foolishly he had put on a collar. Then the man sat down and looked at
the lady as if waiting for instructions. Robert followed his example,
taking care to interpose the table between them in case of a surprise.

"And now," said the lady again, "what are you going to do? Send for a
policeman?"

It was the obvious course, but Robert on a sudden felt that it would be
impossible. When he had valiantly left his bed, seized his weapon and
prepared to capture a burglar or two, he had in mind merely the vision
of an ordinary hooligan. The reality upset him. He needed time to adjust
his ideas.

"I suppose I must," he said apologetically. "I am exceedingly sorry, but
really, you know----"

"Oh, we quite understand," returned Beatrice (for of course it was she
and Lionel) with a frank camaraderie. "It must be a painful position for
you as well as for us. But perhaps, before deciding, you would like to
hear the reason of our visit?"

His eyes brightened; he grasped an idea.

"Excellent!" he said. "I have the satisfaction of having frustrated your
design, and honestly I am not in love with the notion of giving you in
charge. Besides ..." he hesitated as if ashamed, but decided on candor,
"my life is a trifle dull, and if you can tell me a really interesting
tale, well ..."

"Sir, you are a sportsman," observed Lionel; and Beatrice added
persuasively, "A perfect dear!"

"Flattery is useless," he replied. "I don't want that. Tell me a good
tale, and perhaps ..."

"I will tell you all," said Beatrice. "If we were captured I had meant
to keep silence; but your generous offer compels a change of plan. You
shall have a frank truthful----"

"I do not insist on truth," said Robert, stroking his nose, "but it must
be interesting." He stopped, aghast at his own depravity. Then he
laughed gently. "Morality is hard to achieve at this hour. But come! A
good tale!"

Lionel smiled. He had faith in Beatrice as a story-teller, even if he
was a little doubtful of her other qualities. He settled himself on the
sofa, prep