Thereupon, Mr. Sanders waved his hand miscellaneously, as he would have described it, and moved away at a clipping gait, stirring up quite a cloud of dust as he went. He reached Halcyondale, and at once sought out Major Tomlin Perdue, and found that a telegram had already been sent to Captain Buck Sanford, whose prompt reply over the wire had been. "All skue vee," which was as satisfactory as any other form of reply would have been--more so, perhaps, for it showed that the Captain was in high good-humour. Mr. Tidwell and Colonel Blasengame arrived in time to eat a late supper, and the next morning found them all ready to take the train for Malvern. Major Perdue and Mr. Sanders were in high feather. Somehow their spirits always rose when a doubtful issue was to be faced. On the other hand, Colonel Blasengame and Mr. Tidwell were somewhat thoughtful--the Colonel because he had an idea that they were trying to "crowd him into a back seat," as he expressed it, and Mr. Tidwell because it had occurred to him that his presence might tend to jeopardise the case of his son. They were not gloomy; on the contrary they were cheerful; but their spirits failed to run as high as those of Mr. Sanders and Major Perdue, who were engaged all the way to Malvern in relating anecdotes and narrating humourous stories. It seemed that everything either one of them said reminded the other of a story or a humourous incident, and they kept the car in a roar until Malvern was reached. Mr. Sanders did not go at once to the hotel, but turned his attention to the various details which he had arranged for. Mr. Tidwell went to the hotel opposite the railway station, while Major Perdue and Colonel Blasengame, for obvious reasons, went to the rival hotel. There they found Captain Buck Sanford lounging about with a Winchester rifle slung across his shoulder. A great many people were interested when this pale and weary-looking little man appeared in public with a gun in his hands, and he was compelled to answer many questions in regard to the event. To all he made the same reply, namely, that he had been out practising at a target. "I'm getting so I can't miss," he said to Major Perdue. "I wasted twenty-four cartridges trying to miss the bull's eye, but I couldn't do it. I don't know what to make of it," he complained. "There must be something wrong with me. That kind of shooting don't look reasonable. I'm afraid something is going to happen to me. It may be a sign that I'm going to fall over a cellar-door and break my neck, or tumble downstairs and injure my spine."