ones I have will not be voted."

She still looked doubtful, and asked, "Then why did papa say just
now, 'Fortunately'?"

"He merely meant that it was safer they shouldn't know."

"Then it is better to keep it a secret?" she asked, anxiously.

"I suppose so," I said, and then added, "Why should you be afraid
of asking your father?"

"Because he might--well, if he knew, I'm sure he would sacrifice
himself; and I couldn't run the risk."

"I am afraid I don't understand?" I questioned.

"I would rather not explain," she said, and of course that ended
the subject.

Our exercise taken, we went back to the Cullens' car, and Madge
left us to write some letters. A moment later Lord Ralles
remembered he had not written home recently, and he too went
forward to the dining-room. That made me call myself--something,
for not having offered Miss Cullen the use of my desk in 97.
Owing to this the two missed part of the big game we were
playing; for barely were they gone when one of the servants
brought a card to Mr. Cullen, who looked at it and exclaimed,
"Mr. Camp!" Then, after a speaking pause, in which we all
exchanged glances, he said, "Bring him in."

On Mr. Camp's entrance he looked as much surprised as we had all
done a moment before. "I beg your pardon for intruding, Mr.
Cullen," he said. "I was told that this was Mr. Gordon's car, and
I wish to see him."

"I am Mr. Gordon."

"You are travelling with Mr. Cullen?" he inquired, with a touch
of suspicion in his manner.

"No," I answered. "My special is the next car, and I was merely
enjoying a cigar here."

"Ah!" said Mr. Camp. "Then I won't interrupt your smoke, and will
only relieve you of those letters of mine."

I took a good pull at my cigar, and blew the smoke out in a cloud
slowly to gain time. "I don't think I follow you," I said.

"I understand that you have in your possession three letters
addressed to me."

"I have," I assented.

"Then I will ask you to deliver them to me."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" he challenged. "They're my property."

I produced the Postmaster-General's telegram and read it to him.

"Why, this is infamous!" Mr. Camp cried. "What use will those
letters be after the eighteenth? It's a conspiracy."

"I can only obey instructions," I said.

"It shall cost you your position if you do," Mr. Camp threatened.

As I've already said, I haven't a good temper, and when he told
me that I couldn't help retorting,--

"Tha