smiled now. "Go
and make a careful search of the premises. If there are any boxes, open
them. I will give you an order from Sheriff Karr. And Phil, I believe I
wouldn't take Marjie this time. I want to have a talk with her
to-morrow, anyhow. You can't monopolize all her time. I saw Mrs. Whately
just now and made an appointment with her for Marjie."

When he spoke again, his words startled me.

"Phil, when did you see Jean Pahusca last?"

"Last night, no, this morning, about one o'clock," I answered
confusedly.

My father swung around in his chair and stared at me. Then his face grew
stern, and I knew my safety lay in the whole truth. I learned that when
I was a boy.

"Where was he?" The firing had begun.

"On the point of rock by the bushes on Cliff Street."

"What were you doing there?"

"Looking at the moonlight on the river."

"Did you see him first?"

"No, or he would not have seen me."

"Phil, save my time now. It's a matter of great importance to my
business. Also, it is serious with you. Begin at the party. Whose escort
were you?"

"Lettie Conlow's."

My father looked me straight in the eyes. I returned his gaze steadily.

"Go on. Tell me everything." He spoke crisply.

"I was late to the party. Tillhurst asked Marjie for her company just as
I went in. Judson was going her way, and she chose the lesser of
two--pleasures, we'll say. Just before the party broke up, Judson was
called out. He had asked Lettie for her company, and he shoved her over
to my tender mercies."

"And you went strolling up on Cliff Street in the moonlight with her
till after midnight. Is that fair to Marjie?" I had never heard his
voice sound so like resonant iron before.

"I, strolling? I covered the seven blocks from Anderson's to Conlow's in
seven minutes, and stood at the gate long enough to let the young lady
through, and to pinch my thumb in the blamed old latch, I was in such a
hurry; and then I made for the Baronets' roost."

"But why didn't you stay there?" he asked.

I blushed for a certainty now. My actions seemed so like a brain-sick
fool's.

"Now, Phil," my father said more kindly, "you remember I told you when
you came to let me know you were twenty-one, that you must not get too
old to make a confidant of me. It is your only safe course now."

"Father, am I a fool, or is it in the Baronet blood to love deeply and
constantly even unto death?"

The strong man before me turned his face to the window.