But he broke in with, "Thy father, eh?" "No, no, no," I cried in dismay, but a general burst of oaths drowned my protest. A discussion was raging fiercely, but I could make little of its drift; I only caught such expressions as "I told thee now," and some one answering, "That's ee; that's the cove." More ominously sounded the grating whisper of one harsh voice, "The King's Man, freeze un!" and again I heard the same voice muttering, "Spy!" How all this applied to my father I couldn't guess, but I had sense enough to realize that he was in danger, and my part was to warn him. A jerk away from my captor only set me in firmer imprisonment, with a kick on my shin to put me on my best behaviour. I began to be frightened. Soon they had me in the midst of them, and their menacing bloodshot eyes terrified me more than the fists they held to my face. I was cowed by their brutality, and gave no thought even to the precious knife in my belt. I must have whimpered, for some one caught me a buffet across the face and said, "Here, stop they waterworks, and speak to what th'art bid." And then came a question to which probably only my blubbering saved me from betraying the true answer. For a voice was saying in a husky attempt at a whisper, "Thy father, him be the cove with the burn accrosst his hand, eh?" The question startled me, and I heaved out a further burst of tears to cover my confusion. "Here, hearken," I was bidden again in the same grating tones, "an' Gawd help ee if thee don't speak up true. Be thy father the cove with the burn accrosst his hand?" "Left hand," somebody added. I raised my face, biting at my lips to check my tears, and shook my head as foolishly as I could to express my utter failure to comprehend. In my mind, bewildered as I was, I was busily wondering how to warn my father. I felt thankful when I remembered it was only a few days ago that he had last treated his scar, and it would still be invisible to these men even if they caught him and examined him. I had no thought to spare for the mystery which had set them on his track by this tell-tale sign. So when the question was repeated to me, instead of shaking my head I stamped my foot in childish petulance, and shouted so that my father if he were listening above us might hear, "Burn? Haven't I said there's no burn? Fools!" I was caught a sounding cuff for my pains and sent reeling, and as a hand gripped me I cowered, expecting the blow to be repeated; but my heart gave a strange jump of relief as I heard Dirk's voice above me. He had entered the kitchen and was cursing volubly. When his oaths were exhausted he thundered, "What the blazes 're you doing with the kid, anyway?" Explanations broke out confusedly, but he cut them short with, "Stow yer gab, the lot o' you," and when the room was silent he turned to the ruffian who had first seized me and demanded, "Speak up, Davie; what's it about?"