d she
declared that she was about to have the time of her life--but I doubt
it."

This piece of news was an unspeakable relief to Shafto. The hypocrite
listened to the long list of his cousin's enormities with a downcast
and apologetic air, whilst all the time he could have shouted for joy.
When at last he was permitted an opportunity of speaking, he assured
the angry matron that he much deplored Miss Larcher's shortcomings.
His sympathy even took a practical form, for he generously offered to
refund Mrs. Jones half of Miss Larcher's passage money; this the lady
vouchsafed to receive and subsequently always spoke of young Shafto as
"a remarkably nice, gentlemanly fellow." Little did she suspect that
the cheque so punctually lodged at her banker's was in the form of a
heartfelt thank-offering--the price of a young man's peace!

CHAPTER XXIII

MYSTERY AND SUSPICION

One evening after dinner the four chums--unusual circumstance--were all
present; MacNab, seated at the big round table, engaged in putting up a
remarkably neat parcel, the others lounging at ease, smoking and
talking.

"Bedad, I know the address of that!" drawled FitzGerald from his long
cane chair, "St. Andrew's Lodge, Crieff, Perthshire, N.B.
Ahem--presents endear absents."

"N.B.," retorted MacNab, "_you_ don't send many!"

"Why, man alive, it's all I can do to keep myself in boots! And you're
wrong about presents, for I did send my sister a ruby ring out of
'Top-Note's' winnings. Things are getting so bad with me
financially"--here he struck a match and then went on--"that some day
I'll be obliged to make a present of myself!"

Shafto, who was reading, looked up over the edge of his book and said:

"How do you know you won't be declined with thanks?"

"I will take an observation and make sure, me boy--I'm not a confounded
fool. Talking of fools--what about your crazy expedition to-morrow? I
say," addressing himself particularly to Roscoe and MacNab, "did you
know that this fellow is going out tiger shooting? Tiger shooting, if
you please! Tiger shooting is to be his way of spending the Sabbath;
what do you say to _that_, my stiff-necked Presbyterian?"

"Tiger shooting where?" inquired Roscoe.

"Somewhere near Elephant Point, with Stafford of the Buffers," replied
Shafto. "We have got leave, a pass and two trackers."

"You'll find it a pretty expensive business," remarked the canny
Scotsman.

"Worse than that!" supplemented