wheel. Any moment his father
might appear at his shoulder. To delay was useless. He had had his fun
and now in manly fashion he must face the music and pay for it. How he
dreaded the coming storm!

Once, twice he braced himself, then moved reluctantly toward the house,
climbed the steps, and let himself in at the front door. He could hardly
expect any one would come to greet him under the circumstances. An
ominous silence pervaded the great dim hall but after the glare of the
white ribbon of road on which his eyes had been so intently fixed he
found the darkness cool and tranquilizing. At first he could scarcely
see; then as he gradually became accustomed to the faint light he espied
on the silver card tray a telegram addressed to himself and with a
quiver of apprehension tore it open. Telegrams were not such a common
occurrence in his life that he had ceased to regard them with misgiving.

The message on which his gaze rested, however, contained no ill tidings.
On the contrary it merely announced that the family had been detained in
New York longer than they had expected and would not return until noon
to-morrow. He would have almost another day, therefore, before he would
be forced to make confession to his father! The respite was a welcome
one and with it his tenseness relaxed. He even gained courage on the
strength of his steadier nerves to creep into the kitchen and confront
Mary, the cook, whom he knew must have seen him shoot into the driveway
and who, having been years in the home, would not hesitate to lecture
him roundly for his conduct. But Mary was not there and neither was
Julia, the waitress. In the absence of the head of the house the two had
evidently ascended to the third story there to forget in sleep the cares
of daily life. Stephen smiled at the discovery. It was a coincidence.
Unquestionably Fate was with him. It helped his self-respect to feel
that at least the servants were in ignorance of what he had done. Nobody
knew--nobody at all!

With an interval of rest and a dash of cold water upon his face
gradually the act he had committed began to sink back into normal
perspective and loom less gigantic in his memory. After all was it such
a dreadful thing, he asked himself. Of course he should not have done it
and he fully intended to confess his fault and accept the blame. But was
the folly so terrible? He owned that he regretted it and admitted that
he was somewhat troubled over the probable conseq