The Watermelon accepted the inexorable with the tramp’s sang-froid; Henrietta with a sweet dignity, though slightly flushed. The door had been shut before the conference began and the person on the porch had not come in sight of the windows. With a slow wink at Henrietta, the Watermelon strode to the door. Instinctively the general started to lay his hand on the young man’s arm as he passed, to detain him a moment, but instead picked up his hat from the table and hoped that no one had seen that involuntary little gesture. The Watermelon threw open the door with a bit of a flourish and Alphonse, stolid, unsmiling, entered. There was an involuntary sigh of relief from all, even the general. "Well," asked the Watermelon, "what are the sleuths doing?" "Where are the cars, Alphonse?" asked the general sternly, in the reaction of the suspense of the moment before. "I left them at the back door," answered Alphonse, as one who understood perfectly the whole aspect of the case and realized that sometimes a quiet exit is more to be desired than great acclaim. "I thought you would not want them seen from the front." "I have no objection to my car being seen by everybody," returned the general with a wave of his hand, which appeared to include the universe. The back door was locked and the key gone, and the Watermelon had hurried to the door into the sheds and was struggling with the rusty lock. "This is the way," said he, "through the woodshed. That door’s locked and there ain’t a key; family probably left that way. I noticed the woodshed route this morning." "We can shut this door on the side porch and lock it just as we found it," said Henrietta. She shut the door and Alphonse as quietly turned the key. She lowered the window the Watermelon had opened and, finding that he had broken the lock in doing it, she slipped a dollar from her purse and left it on the ledge. It seemed to Henrietta to leave more, to pay for their night’s lodging, would simply be adding insult to injury. One can not take unpardonable liberties with another’s possessions and then pay for it in the gold of the land. "Come," said she. The Watermelon had already opened the door and was working on the lock of the one in the woodshed. Henrietta paused in the house door, the basket on her arm, and glanced back at the others. "Come on," said she. "I will explain," began the general, with a firmness that was fast weakening. "Father," said Henrietta, "you can not explain. Graft is dishonest. The only thing we can do is to run." Billy grabbed up her gloves and obeyed with alacrity. Bartlett and the general followed in dignified majesty. Alphonse came last and shut each door as they passed through. With no undue haste, and yet with no loitering to admire a perfect summer morning, they climbed into the cars; Alphonse alone in the general’s, the other five in Bartlett’s, with Bartlett at the wheel.