ime, and then the board creaked again.

"Did you see him?" he inquired.

"I did," was the sharp reply. "You both ought to be ashamed of
yourselves. You ought to be punished."

"There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head," remarked Mr.
Travers. "What are you going to do?"

There was no reply.

"What are you going to do?" repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat uneasily.
"You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as I can judge
through this crack."

There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody moving
hastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily donned.

"You ought to have done it before," commented the thoughtful Mr. Travers.
"It's enough to give you your death of cold."

"Mind your business," said the voice, sharply. "Now, if I let you out,
will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?"

"Honour bright," said Mr. Travers, fervently.

"I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget," proceeded the
other, grimly. "I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down and
tell him I've killed you."

"Eh?" said the amazed Mr. Travers. "Oh, Lord!"

"H'sh! Stop that laughing," commanded the voice. "He'll hear you. Be
quiet!"

The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped his
hand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey. Mrs. Waters, stepping back
with the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.

"Come on to the landing," said Mr. Travers, eagerly. "We don't want
anybody else to hear. Fire into this."

He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against the
balusters. "You stay here," said Mrs. Waters. He nodded.

She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with the
explosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, she
rushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, tottered
outside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.

"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried.

"What--what's the matter?" gasped the boatswain.

The widow struggled in his arms. "A burglar," she said, in a tense
whisper. "But it's all right; I've killed him."

"Kill--" stuttered the other. "Kill----_Killed him?_"

Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, "First shot," she said, with a
satisfied air.

The boatswain wrung his hands. "Good heavens!" he said, moving slowly
towards the door. "Poor fellow!"

"Come back," said the widow, tugging at his coat.

"I was--was going to see--whether I could d