"Well," he said, "it's like this. When you fellows jumped in and kidnapped Ryan and banged the administration in the eye and slapped the _Gazette_ some stinging ones on the wrist, of course, we couldn't just sit still and go quietly on with our knitting. Nay, nay! So we played up that gossip about you as strong as we could, sort of guessing that it might hurt your feelings a little. I'm going to be frank with you, you see! And then another idea came to us that wasn't half bad. You said you were Mr. Laurence Varney of New York. Well, whether that was true or not--begging your pardon, of course!--that gave it a New York interest, don't you see? So Mr. Smith, more by way of a feeler than anything else, wired it off to the _Daily_--" "Why," interrupted Varney, "I thought you were the correspondent of the _Daily_?" "So I am. But this time it was only nominal. He's pretty fond of doing it himself, Smith is. Well, as soon as I got down this morning, he called me in and showed me the _Daily_. You've seen it, I suppose? Of course, we were struck with the way our story had caught on, and particularly with the postscript about Elbert Carstairs and the mystery idea. Smith said: 'There appears to be more in this than meets the eye, Charles. Hustle you down to the _Cypriani_, or ever the birds be flown.' So I hustled. But then I did a fool thing that nearly gummed the game entirely. Just at the edge of the woods, I met a boy coming up the hill. "Maybe you remember that kid, Mr. Varney--the telegraph boy? He was just on his way back from the yacht when I ran into him." "Come to think of it, I believe I did see that boy hanging around here." "As hard a little nut," said Hammerton, "as you ever saw in your life. When he saw me, he stopped short and asked where I was going. I told him to the yacht. ''T ain't no use,' he said--I won't try to give his lingo--'they've gone.' And the little devil actually went on to tell me how he had overheard the two gentlemen talking--guys he called you--and how you had decided to return to New York at once, and how he had looked back from the shore and seen the yacht already steaming away." Thus Varney learned that he had one friend in Hunston who was true to him, according to his poor little lights; and he felt that that kindly lie of Tommy Orrick's, if it was ever set down against him anywhere, must be the kind that is blotted out again in tears. "Why, I've been good to that kid," said Hammerton, "giving him cigar-ends nearly every time I see him and that sort of thing. I never thought he had so much pure _malice_ in him. Well, like a fool, I turned right around and went back. I felt so pleased about it--for of course that was just what the _Gazette_ wanted--that I dropped in at the Ottoman for an eye-opener, and by Jove! it was nearly an hour before I got back to the office." He laughed, at first ruefully, then merrily--for had not everything turned out in the most satisfactory way in the world?