sworn she had not heard anything, yet something had been different.
The atmosphere of night quietude had been disturbed. She wondered what
servant could be prowling about. Not the butler, who was notorious
for retiring early save on special occasion. Nor could it be her maid,
whom she had permitted to go that evening.

Passing on to the dining-room, she found the door closed. Why she opened
it and went on in, she did not know, except for the feeling that the
disturbing factor, whatever it might be, was there. The room was in
darkness, and she felt her way to the button and pressed. As the blaze
of light flashed on, she stepped back and cried out. It was a mere "Oh!"
and it was not loud.

Facing her, alongside the button, flat against the wall, was a man. In
his hand, pointed toward her, was a revolver. She noticed, even in
the shock of seeing him, that the weapon was black and exceedingly
long-barreled. She knew black and exceedingly long it for what it was, a
Colt's. He was a medium-sized man, roughly clad, brown-eyed, and swarthy
with sunburn. He seemed very cool. There was no wabble to the revolver
and it was directed toward her stomach, not from an outstretched arm,
but from the hip, against which the forearm rested.

"Oh," she said. "I beg your pardon. You startled me. What do you want?"

"I reckon I want to get out," he answered, with a humorous twitch to
the lips. "I've kind of lost my way in this here shebang, and if you'll
kindly show me the door I'll cause no trouble and sure vamoose."

"But what are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice touched with the
sharpness of one used to authority.

"Plain robbing, Miss, that's all. I came snooping around to see what I
could gather up. I thought you wan't to home, seein' as I saw you pull
out with your old man in an auto. I reckon that must a ben your pa, and
you're Miss Setliffe."

Mrs. Setliffe saw his mistake, appreciated the naive compliment, and
decided not to undeceive him.

"How do you know I am Miss Setliffe?" she asked.

"This is old Setliffe's house, ain't it?"

She nodded.

"I didn't know he had a daughter, but I reckon you must be her. And now,
if it ain't botherin' you too much, I'd sure be obliged if you'd show me
the way out."

"But why should I? You are a robber, a burglar."

"If I wan't an ornery shorthorn at the business, I'd be accumulatin'
them rings on your fingers instead of being polite," he retorted.

"I come to make a rai