to digging coal.
Stand where you are, and it will be the worse for you if you try to
bolt."

Claiborne turned to the table with the envelope. It was not sealed, and
he took out the plain sheet of notepaper on which was written:

CABLEGRAM
WlNKELRIED, VIENNA.
Not later than Friday.
CHAUVENET.

Claiborne read and re-read these eight words; then he spoke bluntly to
Oscar.

"Where did you get this?"

"From the hat of the sheep-stealer up yonder."

"Who is he and where did he get it?"

"I don't know, sir. He was of Servia, and they are an ugly race--yes?"

"What were you going to do with the paper?"

Oscar grinned.

"If I could read it--yes; I might know; but if Austria is in the paper,
then it is mischief; and maybe it would be murder; who knows?"

Claiborne looked frowningly from the paper to Oscar's tranquil eyes.

"Dick!" called Shirley from the hall, and she appeared in the doorway,
drawing on her gloves; but paused at seeing Oscar.

"Shirley, I caught this man in the sheepfold. Did you ever see him
before?"

"I think not, Dick."

"It was he that brought your horse home."

"To be sure it is! I hadn't recognized him. Thank you very much;" and she
smiled at Oscar.

Dick frowned fiercely and referred again to the paper.

"Where is Monsieur Chauvenet--have you any idea?"

"If he isn't at the hotel or in Washington, I'm sure I don't know. If we
are going to the dance--"

"Plague the dance! I heard a shot in the sheep pasture a bit ago and ran
out to find this fellow in a row with another man, who got away."

"I heard the shot and the dogs from my window. You seem to have been in a
fuss, too, from the looks of your clothes;" and Shirley sat down and
smoothed her gloves with provoking coolness.

Dick sent Oscar to the far end of the library with a gesture, and held up
the message for Shirley to read.

"Don't touch it!" he exclaimed; and when she nodded her head in sign that
she had read it, he said, speaking earnestly and rapidly:

"I suppose I have no right to hold this message; I must send the man to
the hotel telegraph office with it. But where is Chauvenet? What is his
business in the valley? And what is the link between Vienna and these
hills?"

"Don't you know what _you_ are doing here?" she asked, and he flushed.

"I know what, but not _why_!" he blurted irritably; "but that's enough!"

"You know that Baron von Marhof wants to find Mr. John Armitage; but you
don't know why."

"I