She stared at me with so shocked an air that I laughed. "A lie in a good cause, I mean? Miss Pat must not know that her niece has gone--if she has gone! She has probably taken one of the canoes for a morning paddle; or, we will assume that she has borrowed one of the Glenarm horses, as she has every right to do, for a morning gallop, and that she has lost her way or gone farther than she intended. There are a thousand explanations!" "But they hardly touch the fact that she was gone all night; or that a strange man brought a note addressed in Helen's handwriting to her aunt only an hour ago." "Kidnapped!"--and I laughed aloud as the meaning of her disappearance flashed upon me! "I don't like your way of treating this matter!" said Sister Margaret icily. "The girl may die before she can be brought back." "No, she won't--my word for it, Sister Margaret. Please give me the letter!" "But it is not for you!" "Oh, yes, it is! You wouldn't have Miss Pat subjected to the shock of a demand for ransom. Worse than that, Miss Pat has little enough faith in Helen as it is; and such a move as this would be final. This kidnapping is partly designed as a punishment for me, and I propose to take care of it without letting Miss Pat know. She shall never know!" Sister Margaret, only half convinced, drew an envelope from her girdle and gave it to me doubtfully. I glanced at the superscription and then tore it across, repeating the process until it was a mass of tiny particles, which I poured into Sister Margaret's hands. "Burn them! Now Miss Pat will undoubtedly ask for her niece at once. I suggest that you take care that she is not distressed by Helen's absence. If it is necessary to reward your house-maid for her discretion--" I said with hesitation. "Oh, I disarranged Helen's bed so that the maid wouldn't know!"--and Sister Margaret blushed. "Splendid! I can teach you nothing, Sister Margaret! Please help me this much further: get one of Miss Helen's dresses--that blue one she plays tennis in, perhaps--and put it in a bag of some kind and give it to my Jap when he calls for it in ten minutes. Now listen to me carefully, Sister Margaret: I shall meet you here at twelve o'clock with a girl who shall be, to all intents and purposes, Helen Holbrook. In fact, she will be some one else. Now I expect you to carry off the situation through luncheon and until nightfall, when I expect to bring Helen--the real Helen--back here. Meanwhile, tell Miss Pat anything you like, quoting me! Good-by!" I left her abruptly and was running toward Glenarm House to rouse Ijima, when I bumped into Gillespie, who had been told at the house that I was somewhere in the grounds. "What's doing, Irishman?" he demanded. "Nothing, Buttons; I'm just exercising." His white flannels were as fresh as the morning, and he wore a little blue cap perched saucily on the side of his head.