ne; I don't have to feel
embarrassed after I have put my foot in it, nor anything. Nora does all
of that for me. Really, Tom, you ought to train Grace to be ashamed for
you for your shortcomings, or to be embarrassed for you. You have no
idea what a lot of bother over nothing it relieves a fellow of."

"Nora Wingate is a very busy woman," observed Emma, whereat there was a
laugh at Hippy's expense.

"Tom Gray's wife doesn't have to apologize for him," laughed Grace.
"Folks, don't you think this conversation is growing rather personal? I
would suggest that we all put on the brakes and start something less
personal."

The brakes were instantly put on in one direction, but wholly released
in another. The music from Washington's harmonica ceased suddenly in the
midst of a lofty flight, ending in a gurgle and a gasp. The Overlanders
heard it and laughed.

"He's swallowed the music box!" cried Emma.

Wash, finding his voice, uttered a shrill scream of fright that brought
the Overland Riders to their feet in alarm. They were amazed to see the
colored boy charging across the camp, his feet barely touching the
ground, his eyes wide and staring. In his flight he bowled over Grace
Harlowe who measured her length on the ground on her back.

"Stop!" shouted Tom Gray, making a grab for the boy, and missing him by
an inch or so.

Emma Dean stuck out a foot and succeeded better than she had hoped, for
Washington tripped and plunged floundering into the campfire.

Uttering a piercing yell, he bounded up like a rubber ball and made a
mad dash for the bushes with Hippy Wingate in full pursuit.

CHAPTER II

THE MYSTERY MAN

"I've got him," cried Hippy, appearing with a firm grip on the
frightened Washington's arm, and fairly dragging him along. "Can't
afford to let any fellow get away who can bake potatoes like Wash can."

"Bring him to me, please," demanded Grace. "Now, Washington, what
happened to frighten you so?" she asked in a soothing tone, at the same
time patting the colored boy on his kinky head.

Wash rolled his eyes from side to side and twisted his head as if to
smooth out the wrinkles in his neck muscles.

"Speak up. Don't be afraid. Nothing can harm you. What was it?" urged
Grace.

"De--de debbil him--him speak--him heyeh. Him speak to Wash right outer
de air," gasped the boy.

"There! I knew something terrible would happen from your awful work on
that harmonica," declared Emma Dean. "I'm not at a