ver, if you
would accept my word of honor as a gentleman that I know as little of
this treacherous bullet as you; that for all I am bound to secrecy, my
sincerest desire is to protect Miss Westfall from the peculiar
consequences of this damnable muddle, to clear up the mystery of the
bullet, and for more selfish reasons to protect her from the romantic
folly of the man with the music-machine!"

Philip, his frank, fine face alive with honest relief, held out his
hand.

"Excellency," said he warmly, "one may learn more of his chief over a
camp fire, it seems, than in months of service. Our paths lie
parallel." There was a subtle compact in the handshake.

"What," questioned the Baron presently, "think you, are my fine
gentleman's plans, Poynter?"

Philip reddened.

"Excellency," he admitted, "I have definite information of his plans
which I did not seek."

"And the source?"

"Miss Westfall's servant."

"Ah!"

"There are certain atmospheric conditions," regretted Philip,
"intensely bad for hay-camps, wherefore I found myself obliged to seek
an occasional understudy who would not only blaze the trail for me but
do faithful sentry duty in my absence. And Johnny, Excellency, whom I
pledged to this secret service, uncomfortably insists upon reporting to
me much unnecessary detail. He has developed a most unreasoning
dislike for music-machines and musical gypsies."

"There appears to be a general prejudice against them," admitted the
Baron grimly.

"A while back, then," resumed Philip, "Johnny chanced upon the
information that in January Miss Westfall will be a guest of Ann
Sherrill's at Palm Beach. So will our minstrel--still incognito--"

"Excellent!" rumbled the Baron with relish. "Excellent. If all this
be true," he added, muddling an Americanism, "we have then, of the
horse another color!"

"Later," said Philip, "when Miss Westfall returns to her house on
wheels, I imagine he too will take to the road again--and resume his
charming erotics."

"That," said the Baron with decision, "is most undesirable."

"I agree with you!" said Philip feelingly.

"I too have promised to be a guest at Miss Sherrill's _fete de nuit_!"
purred the Baron suavely. "And you, Poynter?"

"Unfortunately Miss Sherrill knows absolutely nothing of my
whereabouts."

"Sherrill days ago entrusted me with a cordial invitation for you. He
was unaware of our disagreement and expected you to accompany me. As
my official se