s!" exclaimed the girl. "We want to
thank you for everything you've done for us. Rupert said to tell you
that while he doesn't care for beans as a rule, the beans we found in
our cupboard were very superior beans."

Mr. LeFleur hooted with laughter like a small boy. "He is droll, is that
brother of yours. And has Sam been to see you?"

"Sam and--Lucy," answered Ricky with emphasis. "Lucy has decided to take
us in hand. She has installed Letty-Lou over our protests."

The little lawyer nodded complacently. "Yes, Lucy will take care of you.
She is a master housekeeper and cook--ah!" His eyes rolled upward. "And
Mr. Ralestone, how is he?"

"All right. He's going over the farm with Sam this afternoon. We were
sent in his place to give you the papers he spoke to you about."

At Ricky's answer, Val held out the envelope he had carried. To their
joint surprise, LeFleur pounced upon it and withdrew to the window of
the room into which he had conducted them. There he spread out the four
sheets of yellowed paper which the envelope had contained.

"What were we carrying?" whispered Ricky. "Part of Rupert's deep, dark
secret?"

"No," her brother hissed back, "those are the plans of the Patagonian
fort which were stolen from the Russian Embassy last Thursday by the
beautiful woman spy disguised with a long green beard. You know, the
proper first chapter of an international espionage thriller. You are the
dumb but beautiful newspaper reporter on the scent, and I--"

"The even dumber G-man who spends most of his time running three steps
ahead of Fu Chew Chow and his gang of oriental demons. In the second
chapter--"

But a glance at Mr. LeFleur's face as he turned away from the window put
an end to their nonsense. Gone was his smile, his beaming good-will
toward the world. He seemed a little tired, a trifle stooped. "Not here
then," he said slowly to himself as he slipped the papers back into the
envelope.

"Mr. Valerius," he looked up at the boy very seriously, "the LeFleurs
have served the Ralestones, acting as their men of business, for over a
hundred years. We owe your family a great debt. When young Denys LeFleur
was shipped over here to New Orleans under false accusation of his
enemies, the first Richard Ralestone became his patron. He helped the
boy salvage something from the wreck of the LeFleur fortunes in France
to start anew in a decent profession under tolerable surroundings, when
others of his kind died miserab