'Well, why don't you throw me in the
river?' He kinder smiled when he said it. 'I will,' says Tompkins, and
made a rush for him. I don't just remember why I started in to help
Tompkins, but I did. Somehow, sir, Mr. Shaw got--"

"Don't call him _Mr_. Shaw. Just Shaw; he's no gentleman," exploded
Lord Bazelhurst.

"But he told us both to call him 'Mister,' sir, as long as we lived.
I kinder got in the habit of it, your lordship, up there. That is,
that's what he told us after he got through with us. Well, anyhow, he
got the start of us an'--there's Tompkins' eyes, sir, and look at my
ear. Then he pitched us both in the river."

"Good Lord!" gasped the duke.

"Diable!" sputtered the count.

"Splendid!" cried Penelope, her eyes sparkling.

"Hang it all, Pen, don't interrupt the count," snorted Bazelhurst, for
want of something better to say and perhaps hoping that Deveaux might
say in French what could not be uttered in English.

"Don't say it in French, count," said little Miss Folsom. "It deserves
English."

"Go on, James," sternly, from Lady Bazelhurst.

"Well, neither of us can swim, your ladyship, an' we'd 'a' drowned if
Mr.--if Shaw hadn't jumped in himself an' pulled us out. As it was,
sir, Tompkins was unconscious. We rolled him on a log, sir, an' got a
keg of water out of him. Then Mr.--er--Shaw told us to go 'ome and get
in bed, sir."

"He sent a message to you, sir," added Tompkins, shivering mightily.

"Well, I'll have one for him, never fear," said his lordship, glancing
about bravely. "I won't permit any man to assault my servants and
brutally maltreat them. No, sir! He shall hear from me--or my
attorney."

"He told us to tell you, sir, that if he ever caught anybody from this
place on his land he'd serve him worse than he did us," said Tompkins.

"He says, 'I don't want no Bazelhursts on my place,'" added James in
finality.

"Go to bed, both of you!" roared his lordship.

"Very good, sir," in unison.

"They can get to bed without your help, I daresay, Pen," added his
lordship caustically, as she started away with them. Penelope with a
rare blush and--well, one party went to luncheon while the other went
to bed.

"I should like to see this terrible Mr. Shaw," observed Penelope at
table. "He's a sort of Jack-the-Giant-Killer, I fancy."

"He is the sort one _has_ to meet in America," lamented her ladyship.

"Oh, I say now," expostulated the New York young man, wryly.

"I don't mean in