thought it was a tiger, I understand, although some of them held out
for the lion and the hyena. Mrs. Scudaway was game enough to stay and
enjoy the laugh."

"What became of the fox?" demanded the Englishman, his eyes
glistening. At that moment the women came trooping down stairs; the
'bus bell was clanging sleepily.

"The fox? Oh--er--hanged if I know. I--er---"

"Were you riding?"

"Well--er--just a practice run, you know, old man. Er--I say, ladies,
the 'bus waits!"

Two minutes later the 'bus rolled away in the fog and drizzle, leaving
Dauntless and Windomshire alone on the steps.

"Good-night," said the Englishman, after an awkward silence.

"Good-night," was the response. Then, following a brief pause, both
started toward their cars. The next minute they were chugging away, in
the night and the lights in the clubhouse began to go out.

Two hours later a stealthy figure crept across the Thursdale lawn,
lurking behind the rose beds and lilac bushes, finally worming its way
to a dripping but secluded spot under the weather side of the house.
It was past twelve o'clock, but there were still lights in the front
part of the big summer-house. Quiet reigned there, however; the noise
of merry-making came from the servants' quarters overlooking the