Harry looked at his father for some time. "The truth is, I don't
understand Benjamin," he said at last. "I wonder if you will. Faith, sir,
here is a pretty piece of family life. The good son confides in his
father alone of all the world."

"Go on, sir," Colonel Boyce chuckled. "I play fair."

So Harry told his tale of Benjamin and Benjamin's companion and their
disaster. It was that appearance in the crisis of the fight of other
gentlemen on horseback which most interested Colonel Boyce. "So they went
in pursuit of the fellow who had fled and they never came back again." He
looked quizzically at his son. "These be very honest gentlemen."

"Why, sir, I thought nothing of that. They were plainly travelling at
speed. I suppose they missed him, and had no time to waste in searching."

"Then why o' God's name did he not come back to help his fellow? He was
mounted, he was armed, and only you and your cudgel against him. Bah,
Harry, do not be an innocent. Consider: these fellows went after him at
speed. He cannot have been far away. It is any odds that he had his
bolting horses in hand before he had gone two furlongs. Then--allow him
some sense--then he must have turned and come back for his friend. And
then these other honest gentlemen swept down on him. Well. Why have you
heard no more of them or him?"

"Faith, sir, you are right," Harry conceived for the first time some
admiration for his father. "I had missed that: and, egad, it is the chief
question of the puzzle. But--"

"Puzzle! Oh Lud, there's no puzzle. They were all one gang, these