allow the
compliment," he said, gravely, and she quickly noted the weary note in
his voice. "I'm sure this flower bed is the most fitting environment you
could possibly have. You seem one of them."

The blood rushed up in torrents at his words, and she turned scarlet. To
hide all this she buried her face for a moment in the armful of
nasturtiums. Her eyes were a-sparkle when she lifted her head at once,
and said, reproachfully:

"Why did you run away yesterday before any of us could see you?"

"One saw me, and I left a message with him. It was too early for either
you or your father to be up. Did Peter not tell you that all went well?"

"Yes, he told us that, and I went down myself to look at The Prince.
Come here a moment, Doctor Glenning."

She crossed the drive with a faint swish of drapery, and walked across
the lawn to the base of a large maple, not many yards from the front
door of the mansion. Beneath this tree, resting against it, was an iron
settee of ornamental design. Lying upon the settee was a large revolver.
Julia picked it up, cocked as it was, and held it out, muzzle earthward.

"I found this, too, inside under the window. It isn't yours, is it?"

John recognized immediately the weapon he had wrested from the hand of
Travers, and which he had neglected to procure before leaving the
smoke-house.

"No, it isn't mine," he replied, readily.

"Peter said that you told him to say to us that nothing had happened."

"He did not quote me correctly. I told him to say that nothing of
_consequence_ had happened."

"Whose revolver is this, Doctor Glenning?"

"It belongs to the man who came to shoot The Prince."

Julia gave a little start, and uttered an involuntary exclamation.

"You--" she began, then stopped and looked at him, her breath coming
faster.

"I didn't see any use in making a fuss about it, you see," explained
John, smiling. "Travers came, as we all knew he would, and I just waited
and let him walk into the trap which Uncle Peter set when he cut that
window, and baited when he led the colt in. That's all there is to it."

"Let's sit down," suggested Julia.

Then, side by side upon the settee, the revolver still in her hand, she
resumed:

"This is a fearful looking thing. Did he have this?"

"Yes, that's what he came hunting with near three o'clock in the
morning. It would kill an elephant if properly handled."

"How did you happen to get possession of it?"

"I see you must have