ught news that Horace Avory was ill, and Peter knew quite well
that Toffy had written to Mrs. Avory. Of course she was not the wife
for him; she was very delicate and no longer very young, and she had a
plain little daughter who was ten years old. Still, Peter supposed
that the marriage might turn out pretty well in spite of obvious
drawbacks; and Heaven knew that Mrs. Avory, in her own sad, tearful
way, had fought very bravely against poverty and loneliness and
unhappiness, and that she loved Toffy with her whole heart. But why,
now that things seemed to be arranging themselves in a satisfactory
manner, should Toffy be in the blues, and lie awake during the greater
part of the hot nights?

He drew up at the door of the house when the sun was becoming hot, and
Toffy appeared in his pyjamas and prepared a cup of coffee on a stove
of patent construction for which he claimed admiration every time it
was used.

'Thanks, Peter!' he said briefly. 'I was writing to Mrs. Avory by this
mail, and she would have been disappointed if she had not heard from
me. Did you overtake Purvis?'

'No, I didn't,' said Peter; 'and what's more, he didn't go by the mail
train to Buenos Ayres!'

'What a queer chap he is!' said Toffy. 'You never know where to have
him! That can't be he coming back now?' he said, looking from the
small window at two riders who came cantering up to the door.

'Is it? Yes! No, it isn't,' said Peter, going over to the window.
'But I 'll tell you who it is, though! It's Dunbar, and he 's got a
commissario of police with him! Now, what in the name of wonder do
they want here?'

The two riders dismounted at the gate and came up the little path
through the garden to the door. They walked stiffly, as though they
had ridden for a long time, and their horses, tethered by the gate,
looked used up and tired.

Dunbar hardly paused to shake hands. 'Look here,' he said, 'E. W.
Smith is here, and he 's wanted!'

CHAPTER XV

'First of all,' said Peter, 'who is E. W. Smith, and why the dickens
should you imagine he is here?'

Dunbar gave him a quick look. 'Is any one here?' he asked.

'No one but Ross and Christopherson and myself,' said Peter. 'Purvis
was here, but he started for Buenos Ayres last night, and I have no
idea where he is now. I saw the train start from the station at Taco,
but he was not in it.'

'Purvis is in a tight place,' said Dunbar dryly.

Ross, hearing voices in the drawi