ot at the gate nor in the
yard, and he certainly would not have sent it to the garage if he were
making a business visit to the manager of the estate.

With a hateful sense of spying on the innocent and the sincere dread of
being met there by anyone--even by Owen--he was about to turn
around, go back and agree to take Pauline to the wedding, when the
movement of a figure through the distant garage yard made him stiffen
to attention and strain his gaze.

In an instant he had whipped his binoculars from under the seat of the
runabout and was staring through them at the establishment below. A
few moments afterwards he carefully replaced the glasses, and drove
away.

Owen had left the Marvin place in haste, seemingly intent upon a direct
and important errand, but if any one had seen where the car stopped an
hour later, both the haste and the errand would still have been
unexplained.

They were in the loneliest stretch of woods a half mile beyond the
McCallan house when Owen leaned forward and said to his driver: "You
may stop here."

"Yes, sir," answered the young man with a respect that he showed to no
one else. He drew the machine to the roadside and then asked: "Am I to
go with you or stay here?"

"Stay here," answered Owen. "But don't sit there lolling in the seat.
We have broken down--you understand--and you will keep us broken
down and keep on mending the machine until I return."

Owen, who was not averse to physical effort when his dearest object was
at stake, walked the half mile to Windywild rapidly. Unlike Harry's,
Owen's plans were definite and fixed.

He strode through the front gate but took his way immediately to the
stable in front of which two grooms were currying a restless horse.

"Hello, Simon," said Owen. "My car has broken down up the road here. I
wonder if you can help me out."

"I guess so," said the groom, not very cheerfully.

"We got plenty to do today as it is, Mr. Owen, with the weddin' party
on an' them gol blamed lions to look after."

"Who talka da lions?" cried a grim voice, and, turning, Owen pretended
to see for the first time a short, heavy set man of the gypsy type,
seated on a box at the stable door smoking a cigarette and evidently
regarding all the world as the object of his personal hate.

"Why, who is that man?" asked Owen of the groom in a tone of
condescending interest. "Where have I seen him before?"

"If ye ever saw him before, ye wouldn't want to see him