“Sir, I have the honour to report that the Little Peace Maker has been sighted on our starboard bow.” Then throwing off his assumed character he added: “Get a move on you, they will be in at the front door in a minute! “And what are you going to do with this?” he asked on seeing the Count. “Don’t you think we had better wing it before we leave? Ish ka bibble.” “No.” Edestone pushed him ahead of him out of the room. And to Jones: “Good-bye, William,” he called over his shoulder. “I am sorry to have given you so much trouble.” When he had closed the door they both ran into the elevator and started for the roof. “Where are all of those who are going with us?” asked Edestone. “They are all on the roof. No, by Jove!” Lawrence interrupted himself, “Fred is still down in the front hall.” “We must go for him,” said Edestone, halting the car and starting it down. “Why not leave him? Mr. Jones can take care of him.” “No, they won’t stop at anything.” Edestone shook his head. By this time the car had arrived at the main-floor level, and as Edestone flung open the door the Count was seen just coming out of the library, while Fred, who had seen Edestone and Lawrence take the lift, was running up the stairs. In the dim light the Count saw him, and cried to the soldiers who had their guns through the grille: “Shoot that man!” There was the report of several rifles in quick succession, and the Bowery boy, who was now at the top of the great monumental stairs, fell dead. His body rolled to the bottom and lay there perfectly still. CHAPTER XXXII L. P. M. Almost beside himself, Lawrence resisted all of Edestone’s efforts to get him back into the elevator. “You damn’ dirty Dutchman, I’ll pay you for this!” he yelled over his shoulder, as he struggled to break loose from the firm grip which held him, and get at the Count. It was not a time to permit of argument. Overpowering him with his great strength, Edestone simply dragged him back, and flung him into a corner of the car, where he sat crying like a baby with uncontrollable rage. After he had started the lift, however, Edestone went over and patted him soothingly on the shoulder. “I am sorry, old man,” he said regretfully, “awfully sorry! He thought it was I, and I almost wish it had been.” This brought Lawrence back to himself. He knew that Edestone meant every word he said and, jumping to his feet, he threw his arms around his friend’s neck. “Bo!” he exclaimed, half-laughing, half-sobbing, “you are a king among men!” little dreaming of the amount of truth there was in what he said. A moment later he dropped back into the vernacular, where he was more at home. “You are the best sport I ever knew,” he said, “and I am nothing but a rotten squealer! Forgive me, and I will try to be good. But, Bo! that did hurt!” The tears came to his eyes once more. “He was such a nervy little chap!”