drone.
He therefore took his position in front of the house, and maintained a
careful watch, that Phil might not escape unobserved.

So half an hour passed. He could hear no noise inside the house, nor
did Phil show himself at any of the windows. Pietro was disturbed by a
sudden suspicion. What if, while he was watching, Phil had escaped by
the back door, and was already at a distance!

This would be quite possible, for as he stood he could only watch the
front of the house. The rear was hidden from his view. Made uneasy by
this thought, he shifted his ground, and crept stealthily round on the
side, in the hope of catching a view of Phil, or perhaps hearing some
conversation between him and his Amazonian protector by which he might
set at rest his suddenly formed suspicions.

He was wrong, however. Phil was still upstairs. He was disposed to be
cautious, and did not mean to leave his present place of security until
he should be apprised by his hostess that Pietro had gone.

Bridget McGuire kept on with her washing. She had been once to the front
room, and, looking through the blinds, had ascertained that Pietro was
still there.

"He'll have to wait long enough," she said to herself, "the haythen!
It's hard he'll find it to get the better of Bridget McGuire."

She was still at her tub when through the opposite window on the side
of the house she caught sight of Pietro creeping stealthily along, as we
have described.

"I'll be even wid him," said Bridget to herself exultingly. "I'll tache
him to prowl around my house."

She took from her sink near by a large, long-handled tin dipper, and
filled it full of warm suds from the tub. Then stealing to the window,
she opened it suddenly, and as Pietro looked up, suddenly launched the
contents in his face, calling forth a volley of imprecations, which I
would rather not transfer to my page. Being in Italian, Bridget did not
exactly understand their meaning, but guessed it.

"Is it there ye are?" she said, in affected surprise.

"Why did you do that?" demanded Pietro, finding enough English to
express his indignation.

"Why did I do it?" repeated Bridget. "How would I know that you were
crapin' under my windy? It serves ye right, anyhow. I don't want you
here."

"Send out my brother, then," said Pietro.

"There's no brother of yours inside," said Mrs. McGuire.

"It's a lie!" said Pietro, angrily stamping his foot.

"Do you want it ag'in?" asked Bridget, filling