ut seriously
injuring him."

As he spoke LaHume moved, groaned and half raised himself. In the
meantime a group had gathered, and in it was Doctor Barry, a member of
the club. LaHume was conscious but completely dazed. We were much
relieved when the doctor said that he was not permanently injured.
Ordering two of the servants to take LaHume to the club house and put
him to bed, Doctor Barry turned his attention to Wallace.

Despite the spilling of blood the cut was a trifling one, and after
giving it simple treatment, the doctor assured Wallace that he could
attend to his duties as usual. An hour later the nervy Scotchman was out
on the links giving Lawson a lesson.

We picked the knife from the walk near the scene of the encounter. The
blow had been aimed at the breast or neck, but Wallace parried it and
received the scratch before he could grasp LaHume's wrist. The quick
wrench which caused the knife to fly from LaHume's hand fractured one of
the small bones in his forearm, as was learned when that desperate young
man had more fully recovered.

It was a disagreeable incident, and I take no pleasure in recording it.
Wallace immediately tendered his resignation, but Carter and I told him
it would not be considered, and I am sure the management will uphold us
in that action.

The conduct of Miss Lawrence convinces me that she is much attached to
Wallace. Of course, nothing else was talked of during the afternoon and
evening.

In the cool of the day Miss Harding accepted my invitation to play "the
brook holes," as we call them, and we climbed to the top of "The Eagle's
Nest" to watch the sunset.

I helped her up the steep rocks and finally we stood breathless, gazing
down on our little world.

"At last we are alone," I said.

It was one of my usual brilliant remarks. There must have been a ring of
tragedy or melodrama in my voice, but really I said it only because I
could think of nothing else to say at that moment.

Miss Harding looked up with a curious expression in her deep brown eyes
and a rather timid smile on her lips. It was as if she were wondering if
I meditated hurling myself to the depths below, or if I intended to take
this opportunity to launch some tender declaration.

I wish I had the command of language of the garrulous and ever
entertaining hero of the popular novel. If I ever propose it will be in
writing.

I can see that look of startled curiosity on her pretty face as I write
these lin