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"Well, good-bye, fellows."

"Did you"--he began, and stopped; "did you notice a"--he stopped again.

"Don't you like him?"

The young ladies were in rapture. Miss Harper asked how he had done it.

"You can do as you're told; understand?" I understood.

I thought I did until I glanced at the superscription: Miss Coralie Rothvelt.

Her eyes flashed round upon me like stars themselves. "Not--Venus?" she whispered, snatched in her breath, bit her lip, and half averting her face, shot me through with both "twinklers" at once. Then she took a long look at the planets and suddenly exclaimed with a scandalized air--

Not because of this speech, but of a soft rubbing sound on the window-sill behind me, my heart turned cold. Yet there I saw a most welcome sight. Against the outer edge of the sill an unseen hand was moving a forked stick to and fro. The tip of one of its tines was slit, in the slit was a white paper, and in the fork hung the bridle of my horse. I glided to the window. But there bethinking me how many a man had put his head out at just such a place and never got it back, I made a long sidewise reach, secured the paper, and read it.

"Why Wiggins? does he know Coralie Rothvelt?"

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