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"Certainly you can afford to fill a position which the leader of Ferry's scouts has filled just before you."

"Well,--yes,--he--he is,--with some."

"I knew it! I knew it was her! Ah, you rogue, you know it was her!"

She backed half a step, and quite needlessly I let it go. Then she bade me not forget I had promised her the words of a certain song. "Want them? Indeed, yes! Did you not say it was an unpublished song written by a messmate of yours?--oh, Mr. Smith! I see why you stammer! You said 'a member of your mess'! oh!--oh!--oh!--you wrote it, yourself! And you wrote it to-day! That explains--" She drew an awesome breath, rose to her toes and knit her knuckles under her throat.

"He's on my private horse!" I retorted.

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