direction and raise the alarm. You understand," he added, "that as it's
a put-up job, the tourists will get all their stuff back. I don't know
how that's to be arranged."

"But the girl?" Tish asked.

"She's to make her escape later," Mr. Bell said grimly, "and will be
photographed galloping down the trail, by another idiot with a camera,
who, of course, just happens to be on the spot. She'll do it too," he
added with a pathetic note of pride in his voice. "She's got nerve
enough for anything."

He drew a long breath, and Aggie poured him a third cup of tea.

"I dare say this will finish everything," he said dejectedly. "I can't
offer her any excitement like this. We live in a quiet suburb, where
nobody ever fires a revolver except on the Fourth of July."

"What she needs," Tish said, bending forward, "is a lesson, Mr.
Bell--something to make her hate the very thought of a moving picture
and shudder at the sound of a shot."

"Exactly," said Mr. Bell. "I've thought of that. Something to make her
gun-shy and camera-shy. It's curious about her. In some ways she's a
timid girl. She's afraid of thunder, for one thing."

Tish bent forward. "Do you know," she said, "the greatest weapon in the
world?"

"Weapon? Well, I don't know. These new German guns--"