"I haven't said anything about arresting her, have I?" demanded Smeltzer. "I am trying to persuade her to go peaceably without any such humiliation." "You may as well give it up," she said, "for I shall never go." "I hope you will think better of that, Mrs. De Jarnette. Because--" he was drawing from his pocket a yellow envelope marked 'Western Union Telegraph'--"if you don't it will force upon me a very painful duty." He took a dispatch from the envelope and unfolded it slowly. "I located you last night--saw you first as you and the child were coming down from the light-house." They had been there as they had often gone before to see the light-house keeper light the big lantern. The captain was very fond of the child. "I followed you and found out where you were staying. Then I wired Mr. De Jarnette for instructions. Here they are." He handed her the dispatch and they gathered around her to read. It said: "Bring her back peaceably if possible. If she refuses to come, swear out a warrant for her arrest on charge of kidnapping. "De Jarnette." "You see," said the man, quietly, "I am given no discretion in the matter. If you refuse to go with me I _must_ swear out this warrant--and then--" "Then what?" asked Margaret with white lips. "When once this prosecution is begun even Mr. De Jarnette cannot stop it. It will then be out of his hands and the law will have to take its course." Margaret drew a quick sharp breath. "If I could only talk with Judge Kirtley!" "Why can't you telegraph him?" suggested Mrs. Pennybacker. Then, turning to the detective, "You would, of course, allow her to do that?" "Certainly. I will wait any reasonable length of time or do anything you suggest that will further the peaceful settlement of this case. In the meantime, I shall have to keep her in sight." As they were preparing to take to the boats the captain came up to Margaret. "I just want to say to you, madam," he said, wrathfully, "that if I had known what that cuss was up to he--he wouldn't have got _me_ to row him." Then raising his voice a little to insure its carrying as far as the detective, "I lost a leg, madam, fighting men. But I've never got down yet to hunting women and children!" "Oh, Captain, I know you wouldn't have done anything to harm him if you had known. You have always been so good to Philip." "Mama," said Philip, anxiously, as they packed the baskets for their return, "can't we eat the picnic on the way home?" It was a sad and thoughtful little party that rowed slowly back, the detective discreetly following in his own boat. For Margaret, at the first appearance of Smeltzer, there had been a moment of absolute terror. That had now given place to dull despondency; and the anguish in her eyes was piteous to see.