ll be bound there's one knocking about
somewhere."

"Thanks. My friend and I are enthusiastic collectors of butterflies and
moths. We mean to try for some of the latter to-night; so, if we are not
in till late, you won't be surprised or imagine burglars."

"Bless you, no, sir!" said Glew, and went out to look for the lantern.
As soon as the door closed Robert began to speak.

"Don't think me censorious, Mr. Wild, if you please; but, really now,
was there any need for that?"

"The lantern? Rather! We may have to----"

"No--not the lantern. The--the perversion----"

"Oh! you mean the lie. Don't apologize, Bangs, old chap! you haven't
offended me in the least. I like people to say what they think.--Well,
the lie.... Yes, I think it was necessary. Conspirators can't stick at
trifles. Besides, it's on _my_ conscience, so there's no need for you to
worry."

"But wouldn't an excuse----"

"Have done equally well? Possibly, though I never save the ha'porth of
tar. And an excuse would have been only a lie in another form--just as
culpable. But don't let's worry over this: I want to tell you of the
plan of campaign."

Robert subsided, content to have recorded a protest, however mild. He
loved adventure; but, being a man trained in meticulous accuracy, he did
not take kindly to deception--verbal deception, at any rate. The path of
an adventurer he had found a trifle thorny, trodden by a man of
conscience, but still he had enjoyed it and hoped to tread it still
further. But he was careful to leave most of the talking to his comrade.

"While you, Bangs," pursued Tony, leaning against the mantelpiece, "have
been living the lotus life and acting slugabed, I have been working
hard. Ever since I got a hint that Brown was in touch with The Quiet
House I have been following him like the proverbial sleuth hound. I have
discovered--at the expense of torn trousers and soaking feet--that he
keeps tryst nightly with that charming bit of womanhood I spoke to
once--and only once, alas! He has a private entry over the wall, having
driven some large nails into the outer side, well off the beaten track.
Up there the gay Lothario climbs--drops into the garden--meets his
divinity, and _voila tout_!"

"What happens?" asked Robert eagerly.

"The usual thing, Bangs. Exchange of kisses and confidences--which I,
alas! can hear but imperfectly."

"But you don't listen!" exclaimed Robert, scandalized. Tony sighed.

"I have to steel myself.