missing;
and the poor boy felt his home-coming a very barren festival.

Terry was steadfast in the assertion that he had an engagement in New
York the next day, and as soon as supper was over I drove him to the
station. He was in an ecstatically self-satisfied frame of mind.

"Do you know I'm a pretty all-round fellow," he observed in a burst of
confidence. "I've always known better than the proprietor how the paper
ought to be run, and I can give the police points about detective work.
I'm something of a cook, and I can play the hand-organ like Paderewski;
but this is the first time I ever tried my hand at matchmaking and it
comes as easy as a murder mystery!"

"You think that their engagement is due to you?"

"But isn't it? If it weren't for me they'd have it all to go over again
from the beginning, and there's no telling how long they'd take about
it."

"I hope they appreciate your services, Terry. You're so modest that what
you do is in danger of being overlooked."

"They appreciate me fast enough," returned Terry, imperturbably. "I
promised Polly to spend my first vacation with 'em after they're
married--Oh, you'll see; I'll make a farmer one of these days!"

I laughed and then said seriously:

"Whether you made the marriage or not, you have cleared Radnor's name
from any suspicion of dishonor, and I don't know how we can ever
sufficiently show our gratitude."

"That's all right," said Terry with a deprecatory wave of his hand. "I
enjoyed it. Never did anything just like it before. I've arranged a good
many funerals of one sort or another, but this is the first time I ever
arranged a marriage. And Jove! but I could make a story out of it," he
added regretfully, "if she'd only let me tell the truth."

The events which I have chronicled happened a number of years ago, and
Four-Pools has never since figured in the papers. I trust that its
public life is ended. In spite of the most far-reaching search, the
murderer of Colonel Gaylord was never found. Radnor and I have always
believed that he was lynched by a mob in West Virginia some two years
later. The description of the man tallied exactly with the appearance of
the tramp my uncle had thrashed, and something he said in his
ante-mortem statement, made us very sure of the fact.

Mose, until the time of his death, was an honored member of the
household, but he did not long outlive the Colonel. The memory of the
tragedy he had witnessed seemed to follow