"I think not," he said, hesitatingly. "It--it's too far away. She would rather be up here with me, or near me. She wants so much to know Vinton, too,--has such an admiration for him; but she could not see him just now, I suppose. How is he to-day?" "Very much better last night. So much so that Miss Summers went over and dined with us at Moreau's,--a little dinner to Major Williams and Turpin, you know," said I, soothingly, and with calm note of the twinge which seemed to shoot over Amory's features at the mention of the party. "They went back to Kentucky last night, I suppose you know," I added. "They? No, I didn't!" said Mars, with sudden animation. "I wanted to see Turpin, too. He was here twice, but they said I wasn't well enough, or something, and he went away. Did he go back with the battalion?" he inquired, eagerly. "Certainly. He came around to say good-by last evening." Mars settled back in his chair with an expression of absolute relief. Now, thought I, is the time to have a few words about Bella Grayson. It was just about time to look for the coming of her reply to my diplomatic letter, and very positively did I want to know just how matters stood between her and my cavalryman. Meddling old Polonius that I was, it seemed to me perfectly right and natural that Mars should reciprocate my warm interest in him, that he should want to tell me about Bella, and that the fact of my relationship to her should give me an added lustre in his eyes. This last, perhaps, was realized. He was more inclined to be very courteous and semi-confidential in his tone, yet he was not at ease. It was at the tip of my tongue to make some genial, off-hand, matter-of-fact inquiry, such as "Heard from Bella, lately?" by way of putting him entirely out of all embarrassment, when, fortunately, the orderly entered, saying a gentleman asked to speak a moment with Mr. Brandon. Going out in some surprise to the landing, Mr. Brandon there encountered one of the detectives whom he had recently learned to know. "Can you come down to the office, sir? We have one of your birds, if not both," was the extent of his communication. And dropping Amory; forgetting Bella; I went. CHAPTER XVI. An hour later, both Harrod Summers and myself were curiously inspecting a pair of inebriated bipeds at the police station. Both were stolidly drunk, and were plunged in the heavy sleep that resulted from their excessive potations. One, the younger, was a tolerably well-dressed youth not absolutely unlike Peyton; but all the same a total stranger. Neither of us had ever seen him before. But his companion--was Hank Smith.