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I made no reply. He looked momentous, leaned to me sidewise with a hand horizontally across his mouth, and whispered a name. It was new to me. "Charlie Toliver?" I murmured, for we were at the tent door.

"Suppose it wasn't either."

"That was not play, Mr. Smith," Miss Harper had begun to respond, when a voice across the sedge-field called with startling clearness,

I surrender, he said, with amiable ease.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "To whom are you pledged for any such--"

"I naturally thought," resumed I, with a smile meant to refer to the blond dancer, "that the madam must be away somewhere."

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