he, and no convict could
grow one in a week. While such eyes as Marsh has I could never, never
forget, once I felt them fastened on me."

"Well, I'll have one of my men keep an eye on the gents as long as they
stay at the Quality Inn. Going now, Frank? Shake hands again, will
you; and remember, anything we can do for you, just ask. This is great
news you've brought here today, and it may mean a heap for me."

When Frank went outside and mounted his wheel he never once glanced
across the square to where the car of Mr. Marsh stood. True, neither
of the parties happened to be visible just then; but how was he to know
but what they might be looking out from behind the filmy lace curtains
with which Mine Host Barnwell decorated his front parlor windows?

He rode straight home, and reaching his den where he kept all his
belongings in the line of sport, took down from the wall a
double-barrel shotgun, with which he had had many a day's pleasure in
the past.

From a drawer he also gathered up half a dozen shells, carrying Number
Ten shot; which Frank calculated would tickle rather than severely
injure, if used with discretion, at a certain distance.

After spending a short time at home, and not seeing his father, the
good doctor, who was off in his car paying his morning calls, Frank
again mounted his wheel, and headed toward the home of his cousin.

He had much to ponder over as he proceeded, making no pretense at
speed; for he was carrying the gun in one hand. It was not a very
pleasant thought, that at any minute almost he might run across that
revengeful Jules, bent on paying back the debt he chose to believe he
owed the young aviator. Frank was almost tempted to stop, alight, and
place a couple of shells in the gun, so as to be ready for any
emergency that might arise.

"Shucks! what's getting you, Frank Bird?" he exclaimed, as he laughed
at the idea of being held up in that fashion on the public highway.
"Just make up your mind nothing's going to happen to you; and that if
Jules did come back to the Powell woods he's started away by now, full
tilt. I'm ashamed of you, that's what. If it was Andy now, he's so
full of imagination he sees lots of things that never exist; but you
know better. Why, whatever can that smoke mean? And as sure as
anything, it seems to be rising straight over the field where our shop
lies!"

He immediately increased his speed, and went flying along the crooked
road, bent on rea