Frayne turned and answered the question.

"Not personally," she admitted frankly, "but the newspaper I am on is,
and they sent me up here to get a story."

"Oh, you are a reporter?"

"Yes; on the _Times_."

"She won't be one long, though," asserted Rob cheerfully, "because she
is going to marry my cousin in the fall."

Beth's expression remained neutral at the announcement, but I noticed
throughout the afternoon that she was extremely affable toward Miss
Frayne, and that she had the whiphand again with Rob, and meanwhile he
seemed to be gathering a grim determination to do or die.

"Lucien, how did you come to ask Miss Frayne to go to that awful place
tonight?" asked Silvia when we had gone to our room for a siesta,
which seemed impossible by reason of the bellowing of Diogenes, who
balked at being required to lie down.

"Rob asked me to," I informed her, when I had cowed Diogenes, "so he
could have a free field for Beth. I believe he planned this
expedition so he could storm the citadel."

She reflected.

"Well, maybe he is wise. Girls like Beth have to be taken by storm
sometimes. I shouldn't wonder if Rob could be a bit of a bully, too,
but--"

She ended her speculations in a shriek.

"Oh, Lucien! Diogenes has jumped out the window."

We rushed down stairs, Silvia informing the guests in transit of the
awful catastrophe.

Silvia paused at the door opening on to the veranda.

"I can't see him," she said faintly, closing her eyes. "You'll have to
tend to it alone, Lucien."

Beth was already at the telephone, which connected with the country
doctor's. Rob joined me. We located our window, and began hunting
underneath for the pieces.

"Where in the world do you suppose he landed?" asked Rob.

Just then the missing one came around the house clasping a bologna
sausage in his fist.

"Ye Gods and little Polydores!" exclaimed Rob.

I caught Diogenes by the arm and rushed him in to Silvia.

I found her in company with an old colored mammy, who was laundress
for the hotel.

"Sho'," she was saying, "I done gwine by de windah with ma baby cab
full o' cloes, an' dis yer white chile done come tumblin' down an'
fall right in ma cab. Now, what do you think o' dat? I reckon I was
nevah so done clean skeert afoah in ma life. An' ef de chile didn't
grab one of ma bolognas and done git out de cab an' run around de
house."

"Oh," cried Silvia, "poor little baby! Come to mudder. Lucien, where
are you going wi