len
raiment, it was almost as though he were changing his character as well.
In transferring his effects from the old to the new pockets he came upon
Isabel Perry's note, and grinned as he re-read it. He wondered what
Isabel would say if she knew that he had already slipped the leash that
bound him to convention and performed even more reckless deeds than she
had prescribed for him.

"No callers? Well, I must say you're a credit to our gents' clothing
department!" the Governor remarked on his return. "That stuff was
accumulated early in the spring by a couple of the boys who had no more
sense. Silver, yes; you can melt it and sell it like pig iron; but how
absurd to risk your neck stealing mere raiment! Still the word's gone
down the line and any of the brethren who're in need of shelter and a
change of clothes will find what they want here. You've picked about the
best of the lot. What do you make of this? Found it in the car."

He extended a crumpled telegram which read:

Bailey Harbor, Me.
June 11, 1917.

Putney Congdon,
Thackeray Club, New York.

I am offering the house for rent. Shall take every precaution
to protect my children from your brutality.

A. B. C.

Archie felt the hut whirling round him. What he held was beyond question
the reply of Mrs. Congdon to her husband's telegram that had been left
lying on the dinner table. And if Congdon had left New York for Bailey
Harbor immediately to put into effect his threat to abduct his child, it
might have been Congdon he had shot--not Hoky! The Governor, scrubbing
the paint from his hands, called over his shoulder:

"An odd message! It had slipped under the seat. Good thing I found it."

"Where did you find that car?" asked Archie with an attempt at
indifference.

"Oh, the bloomin' thing was run up under a clump of trees on the back
road on the far side of Bailey. I thought maybe it was a stolen car.
Hoky and I separated there when the storm started. So I drove the
machine to the place you found me waiting for him. Mr. Congdon has
probably notified all the world of his sad loss." He held out his hands
for Archie's inspection. "This is certainly hard and fast paint, but it
did the work all right. The owner of that machine wouldn't know it now.
And not more than a spoonful of gas gone out of the tank; so we can make
a long jump, Archie."

No jump they could make would be long enough, Arch