"I supposed that it was one of the servants," she said, with a sweet smile, "or I should have welcomed you at the door. Please be seated." The young girl's perfect self-possession embarrassed Al a little. He stammered out something about its being of no consequence, and seated himself on the extreme edge of the sofa. Certainly Miss March was a very beautiful girl; unlike many actresses, she looked prettier off the stage than on it. "I suppose," she began, "that you wonder why I have requested the favor of this interview." "I am a little curious to know," Al admitted. "When I have told you, I suppose you will think me a very foolish girl; probably I am. But I cannot leave a stone unturned." She paused, evidently agitated. What new mystery was this? Al asked himself. "I have read the interview with you in this morning's Rockton _Banner_," went on the young lady. "I'm sorry to hear that," said the boy, bluntly. "Why?" "Because there are scarcely ten words of truth in it." A genuine look of disappointment appeared upon Miss March's face. "I am very sorry to hear you say that," she said. Al stared at her in surprise. "You surely did not believe all that stuff, Miss March?" "Not all of it, of course," replied the girl, with a faint smile; "but there was one part that I thought might be true." "What part?" "About your sister, who was stolen in infancy." "It is true," said Al, "that my sister was stolen." "Ah!" interrupted the young lady, with an appearance of agitation that the boy could not understand. "But the facts were so twisted and distorted that the story is very different from the truth." "What is the truth?" Al hesitated. "Believe me," said Miss March, "I do not ask from mere idle curiosity. I have a most important reason for putting the question. Will you not tell me the story?" Her agitation communicated itself to her companion; the boy's voice trembled slightly as he replied: "Certainly, Miss March; for I feel that you have some strong motive for desiring to hear it." "Believe me, I have. Go on, I beg of you." Al was about to speak when the door was thrown open and a rough-looking man strode into the room. "I thought I should find you here," he said, addressing our hero. "Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded the boy. "I'm a deputy sheriff, and I want you. I have a warrant for your arrest." CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MARMADUKE MERRY. "A warrant for my arrest?" gasped Al, half believing that the sudden appearance of the stranger was only a joke. "That's what I said. Now, young fellow, don't you try to resist me, for it won't work." "I'm not going to resist you if you really have a warrant," said Al. "Well, I have, and here it is." And the stranger produced a document from his pocket. "What am I accused of?" asked the boy. The deputy, who evidently felt the importance of his position, produced a copy of the first number of the Rockton _Bugle_ from his pocket.