It was getting late, and Jack was thinking about excusing himself and going to bed, when he noticed that Bessie was holding her head to one side and apparently listening; and in a few seconds Jack heard the faint tramp of a galloping horse, which presently stopped at the barn. "I'll just go out and see who that is," said Jack. "You needn't bother, Jack; I know that gallop," Bessie replied. "That's old Kate; and probably father riding her." "Good!" exclaimed Jack. "All the same I'll just go out and make sure." He stepped out of the front door and walking around the unlighted side of the house stopped near the kitchen door and looked toward the barn. In a moment he heard footsteps and the clinking of spurs, with the sound of shaps rasping as a man walked, and a moment later recognized Mr. Powell, and stepped forward to speak to him. "I don't suppose you know me, Mr. Powell, but I'm Jack Danvers from over at Mr. Sturgis' place and I want to say a word to you before you go to the house." "Why sure I know you, Jack! That is, I know your voice; but I don't believe I'd know your body. Maybe when I get a chance to see your face, I'll recognize that. Are you out here for the summer?" "Yes, Mr. Powell," was the reply; "but I want to speak to you now before you go in. There has been trouble here at the house; bad business, but no great harm done. It's all over now. Mrs. Powell will tell you the whole story." The two shook hands and went into the house. Powell kissed his wife and hugged his daughter in a way that showed how glad he was to see them again. Then he sat down and looked about, as if expecting something. Mrs. Powell spoke at once. "I don't know if Jack told you about what happened here, Henry; but I was badly scared, and I guess Bess was, too, only she didn't show it." "Well," said Powell, "tell me the story. There's no use in beating about the bush." Mrs. Powell told him what had happened, and as her story went on, Powell's face took on a stern, hard look that promised badly for the criminals, if one of them should fall into his hands. When the narrative was ended, he turned to his daughter. "Well, Bess," he said, "you certainly did the right thing: and I feel proud that you were so ready and so plucky. You did well, too," he said to Jack; "but, as I understand it, the thing was all over when you stopped the man who was running away. What's become of him?" Then Jack took up the story, and told the decision that had been reached and how it had been carried out. "Well," said Powell, "I believe on the whole you did the right thing. I don't quite think it's what I'd have done, if I'd been here; but if I'd been here I should have been mad clear through and would probably have killed the young fellow offhand."