Defiant, the girl spoke, her enunciation clear and faultless. "His name is Philip Rutley, and he is masquerading as my Lord Beauchamp for fraudulent and unlawful purposes." "Ha, ha, ha," laughed Rutley, sarcastically. "Delightfully refreshing, gentlemen." "Oh!" came from Hazel, and then, as if doubting the announcement, exclaimed: "But the color of Rutley's hair is on the pumpkin order." "When the dye is washed out it will be on the pumpkin order again," laughed Sam. "He of the investment company?" questioned Mrs. Harris, with a puzzled expression of countenance. "The very same chap, Auntie," said Sam. "Dear me, such ingratitude!" and Mrs. Harris looked disgusted. "Why, the rascal promised never to return if we would not prosecute him." "He, he, he, he, how very funny," derisively laughed Rutley, in that high-pitched, screechy falsetto key he was so well trained in, and at times he nervously stroked his Vandyke beard. "I shall at once bring an action at law against you for malicious libel," upon which he started to pass Mr. Harris. His purpose was understood and frustrated by Sam, who promptly seized him by the collar. "I guess not!" "Well done, Sam!" exclaimed Mrs. Harris. "Take your hands off!" demanded Rutley, who began to scuffle violently with Sam. "Hold him fast, Sam," cheerfully encouraged Mr. Harris, who rushed to Sam's assistance, followed by Smith. "I guess so." At that moment, by a dexterous movement, Rutley slipped out of his coat, swiftly turned, and exclaimed: "Damn your eyes, take that," and violently struck at Sam, who adroitly dodged the blow, dropped the coat and squared up to him. "I'm your huckleberry; I guess. Good time to square that little run-down now. Come down the hill out of the sight of the ladies." "I'll go wid yees," volunteered Smith. "Sure, an' I'll see fair play, an' may the divvil take me lord." Mr. Harris picked up Rutley's coat and there fell out of one of the pockets two packages of banknotes. He let the coat fall and picked up the packages. Flourishing them about his head, he laughed--"Ha, ha, ha, ha." The detective turned to Jack and said, quietly: "You wanted the proof: there it is," and he pointed to the money held by Mr. Harris. "He will be pinched, but Mr. Thorpe is to secure his release." "Why, there are twenty thousand dollars here!" exclaimed Mr. Harris, examining the packages of money. "Now you believe me, don't you?" said the detective to Jack. "Yes," replied Jack, "you were right," and then he stepped forward alone, close to Rutley, and with a sneer on his face, confronted him. "So, my noble partner! You gave me the kiss of 'Judas' for ten thousand shekels, eh?" Rutley was amazed, but maintaining his imperturbability, exclaimed: "You propound a riddle, my poor man. I don't know you."