had long ago
emptied the revolver.

Three men came on. There was a crash as the log in Balthazar's mighty
hands beat down the door and he staggered through.

But Harry was upon him. He hurled the Gypsy across the room. He
charged at the others and one went down.

Through the door came four men.

"It's Harry. Help him!" cried Pauline.

Balthazar charged straight at the newcomers but he did not attempt to
fight. He was out through the door and away to the river before they
could intercept him. Within a few moments his companions lay bound on
the hut floor.

"But how did you find out? How did you know we needed you?" asked
Pauline afterward of young Richard Gorman, whose camping party had been
the rescuers.

"That's the girl who told us," he said, pointing to a dejected little
bull terrier that stood, quaking with excitement, a few feet away.

"Cyrus!" cried Pauline, running and clutching the little terrier in her
arms.

"Yes, he brought us the dead bomb and we knew something was up."

CHAPTER XXI

THE GUEST OF HONOR

"Well, prove it," said Harry. "Show me that you mean it!"

"Why, Harry, what a woman says she, always means."

"Always means not to do."

"But, Harry, really I'm going to be good this time," pleaded Pauline.

They were emerging from the gate of the Marvin mansion to the avenue,
and as Harry turned to Pauline with a skeptical reply on his lips, the
approach of a young man of military bearing stopped him.

"By Jove, isn't that--who the deuce is it? Why, Benny Summers!"

The young man was hurrying by without recognition, when Harry called
sharply: "Hello, Ben!"

"Harry--Harry Marvin! By the coin of Croesus, is it really you?"

"No," said Harry, grasping his hand, "not the 'you' you used to know.
I've been driven into premature old age by caring for a militant
sister. Polly, this is Ensign Summers of the navy. Please promise me
that you won't get him into danger, because he used to be a friend of
mine. He has never done anything more dangerous than run a submarine
and shoot torpedoes out of it in a field of mines."

"A submarine? Torpedoes?" cried Pauline. "Isn't that beautiful."

"But, Benny, how are you? What have you been doing? I haven't seen
you in a thousand years."

"I'm still at it. And I've got it, Harry. I give you my word, I
have."

"Got what?"

"The torpedo--I mean THE torpedo, in capital letters and italics with
a line under the word. I'