marked by nine o'clock; by ten o'clock he was
lost to all the rest of the company in beholding her. Early the
following year he was happy only when dancing with her, singing so that
his top notes blended with hers at short range, or helping her to hear
the chimes at one of the round windows. At 3 o'clock he started for
Ninety-sixth Street with Gabrielle--her mother and father were not
present--and there is no record of the time he reached our flat.

That was the beginning of a courtship which was carried on without the
assistance of the middleman of former years, until the unexpected
interference of the father-in-law threw the case into my expert hands.

CHAPTER IX

Mr. Tescheron became badly involved by swallowing the bait, hook and
line, in my joke about notifying the coroner. When I went to bed at
last, wearied with deep thinking and the sending of messages, he began
again on a new line which I had not figured on. I supposed he would see
the folly of proceeding farther, conclude that I knew more about Jim
Hosley than his man, Smith, return home and wait to see me again before
going ahead. But he didn't seem to realize that I was only joking. I was
so plain-spoken about it--put the thing so broadly--that I supposed any
sane man would understand I was merely stating my loyalty to Jim in
terms of sarcasm. All jokes to fathers-in-law of the Tescheron
inflammable character should, however, be labeled in big letters, the
same as the dynamite they ship on a railroad, accompanied by the Traffic
Association's book entitled, "Rules for the Handling of Explosives."

To Mr. Tescheron it was a most serious matter to consider his family
entangled in a betrothal following immediately the commission of an
awful crime by the man who had won his daughter's hand. I had informed
him in my little joke that none could escape the coroner's subpoena
unless they left the State. He had traveled very little in this country,
and knew few places out of the State where he could be comfortable with
his family till the affair blew over. The Tescherons spent their summers
at the quiet village of Stukeville, where they had a comfortable country
house; it was not pretentious, but it was beautifully situated on a
knoll, overlooking the neighboring lake, and from the broad verandas a
glimpse of the distant, more densely inhabited portion of the town might
be obtained. But it was not possible to fly to Stukeville, because that
is situated in N