ought forth a quantity of jewelry, watches and purses.

"Now, David," continued Mrs. Gray, firmly, "be kind enough to give me
that pistol."

David obeyed her, wondering if she meant to shoot her own nephew.

Mrs. Gray pointed the pistol at the thief with as steady a hand as if
she had been shooting at targets all her life.

"Untie the cords," she commanded.

They cut the cords with a carving knife.

"Now, go!" said the old lady, still pointing the pistol at his head.
"Leave my house quickly. I shall not punish you, because a thief is
always punished sooner or later."

Tom Gray looked immensely relieved, Grace thought, in spite of his
crestfallen, hangdog air. They followed him down the hall, Mrs. Gray in
the lead, until he slammed the front door after him and disappeared in
the night.

Then, turning with her old, sweet manner, she continued:

"My dear children, I want to thank you for helping me rid my house of
this man. I know I can depend on all of you never to mention it to
anyone. It would have been a great blow to me if I had not been so
angry; but now let us all go to our beds and forget this horrid episode.
To-morrow we shall be as happy as ever. I am determined it shall not
interfere with our good time."

CHAPTER XV

TOM GRAY

The company which met around the breakfast table, next morning, was
entirely restored to its old gayety. There was not one member of the
house party, including Mrs. Gray herself, who did not feel unbounded
relief that the place was so well rid of Tom Gray.

David was glad there had been no arrest, and that the mistress of the
house had with so much dignity and spirit turned out the culprit. It
would have been a bad business, testifying in court against Mrs. Gray's
nephew when he had been visiting in her house.

"Mrs. Gray," suggested Grace, "if you haven't made any plans this
morning for us, I think we had better spend an hour or so rehearsing our
surprise."

"Very well, my dear, you may spend as much time as you like at it; but
if I peep over the transom, or listen through a crack in the door, you
mustn't scold. I don't know that I can wait much longer to find out what
it is."

"No, no! You're not to come near the third story," protested Grace. "We
shall nail down the transom and stuff the keyhole with soap if you do."

"I never could stand suspense," exclaimed the old lady, shaking her head
until her lace breakfast cap, with its little bows of lavender ribbo