ing a bridle by the light of a smoky lantern in
the stable, when he saw a ghost. It just opened the door, and walked
in, and said, "How are you, Bill?" Craven fell backward off his stool,
then leaped to his feet with a yell that caused a commotion among the
barn swallows under the eaves, and brought Farrish and Curly tumbling
down the ladder from the loft. Thereupon discipline, for which Haig
had always been rather a stickler, suffered a bad half hour. They had
given him up for lost; and had found on comparing experiences that
each of them had many reasons for counting that loss his own. In the
days following the attempts to rescue Miss Gaylord, these three had
gone about the Park with chips on their shoulders, inviting any
outspoken citizen to say to them anything that was not strictly
proper and complimentary about Haig. So now, though the words were few
after the first noisy demonstration, they were the kind of words that
are worth hearing, from man to man.

Haig and Bill Craven presently compared notes in the matter of
"busted" legs. Bill's had mended much sooner than Haig's, which was
quite easily understood, considering the great difference in their
circumstances. Curly had "nigh killed" the sorrels, getting the doctor
for Craven, but they were all right now. "Fat and sassy," Curly
added.

"I'll take some of that out of them, to-morrow," said Haig. "I'll want
the sleigh, Farrish. Please look after it in the morning."

Then, seeing their impatience, he told them of Sunnysides' final
escape, and of all the events that followed--as much as was good for
them to know.

"But where's Pete?" asked Craven.

"He went to Huntington's with Miss Gaylord. He'll be along soon."

"Well, jest wait till we git our hands on that damned Indian!" cried
Bill. "Eh, men?"

It was evident that there would be a considerable disturbance in the
barn on Pete's arrival.

A few minutes later Haig had his surprise. On entering the cottage he
first encountered Slim Jim in the outer room. Perhaps Jim's face
turned a trifle yellower, perhaps his thin legs trembled a little
under the sky-blue trousers; but that was about all, except the light
that flickered an instant in his eyes.

"Glad you back!" he said simply. "Want supper?"

"Want supper! Why, you scrawny, evil-eyed heathen! Want supper! I want
everything you've got to eat, and everything you haven't got, and
don't you tell me there's 'vellee lil' either, or I'll break every
bone