ive minutes Pete Ellinwood lounged indolently against a spile,
engrossed in thought. Then he put on his coat and crossed the King's
Road to the Schofield cottage.

He had hardly opened the gate when a strange youth in a gray suit and
Panama hat came out of the front door and down the path. Pete
recognized the newcomer from St. John's, and the newcomer evidently
recognized him.

"Ha! Captain Code Schofield, I presume," he announced, thrusting his
hand nervously into his pocket and bringing out a fistful of papers.
So eager and excited was he that, unnoticed, he dropped one flimsy
sheet, many times folded, into the grass.

"No, I'm not Schofield," rumbled Ellinwood from the depths of his
mighty chest. "Get along with you now!"

"Please accept service of this paper, Captain Schofield," said the
other, extending a legal-looking document, and shrugging his shoulders
as though to say that Pete's denial of identity was, of course, only
natural, but could hardly be indulged.

"I'm not Schofield!" bellowed Pete, outraged. "My name's Ellinwood,
an' anybody'll tell you so. I won't take your durned paper. If you
want Schofield find him."

The young man drew back, nonplussed, but might have continued his
attentions had not a passer-by come to Pete's rescue and sworn to his
identity. Only then did the young lawyer--for he was that as well as
private secretary--withdraw with short and grudged apologies.

Pete, growling to himself like a great bear, was starting forward to
the house when his eye was caught by the folded paper that had dropped
from the packet in the lawyer's hand. He stooped, picked it up, and,
with a glance about, to prove that the other was out of sight, opened
it.

As he read it his eyes widened and his jaw dropped with astonishment.
Twice he slowly spelled out the words before him, and then, with a low
whistle and a gigantic wink, thrust the paper carefully into his
pocket and pinned the pocket.

"That will be news to the lad, sure enough," he said, continuing on
his way toward the house.

The little orphan girl Josie admitted him. He found Mrs. Schofield on
the verge of tears. She had just been through a long and painful
interview with the newcomer, and had barely recovered from the shock
of what he had to tell.

Code, since learning of what was in the air, had not told his mother,
for he did not wish to alarm her unnecessarily, and was confident he
would get away to the Banks before the slow-moving