“A Bible boy! Not if I know it.” Ruddy grinned, and frowned, and scratched his leg. He was embarrassed in the presence of feminine beauty. If anything but feminine beauty had called him “a Bible boy,” he would certainly have punched its head. “Not if I know it,” he said. “I’m no little Samuel-Here-Am-I, praying all over the shop in a white night-shirt.” Again he scratched his leg; he wished that feminine beauty didn’t make him itch so. The little girl rested her white petal of a hand on his grubby paw. “I didn’t mean anything horrid, only--just that it was so like David and Goliath, the way you made the stone sink into his forehead.” “Yah!” He swelled with a sense of valor, now that his prowess was acknowledged. “I did catch ’em a whopper, didn’t I? If I hadn’t, you kids would be dead.” Desire drew herself up with childish dignity. “It was nice of you, Boy; Teddy and I both thank you. But--but you mustn’t call me ’kid.’ Teddy always calls me ’Princess.’” Ruddy’s good-humored, freckled face grew puzzled. “Princess? But, look here, are you?” Teddy was wondering whether he ought to confide in Ruddy, when Desire took the matter out of his hands. “I expect I am. I’m a little girl who was stolen from America. We were ’scaping when you found us.--What’s in that box you’re carrying?” Her eyes had been on it from the first. It was full of holes; inside something live kept moving. “Teddy knows. It’s one of Pa’s pigeons. Didn’t think I’d get home to-night when I came to look for you, so I brought it to let ’em know not to expect me.” “When you came to look for us!” Teddy leant forward. “Did you come to look for us? Who sent you?” Ruddy winked knowingly. He was enjoying the mystery, and prolonged the ecstasy of suspense. Pulling a packet of Wild Woodbines from his pocket, he lit one and offered one to Teddy; but Teddy shook his head. “Ma doesn’t know I do it,” he explained. “I chew parsley and peppermints so she shan’t smell my breath. Bible kids don’t do that. I’m a real bad boy--a detective.” “But tell us--tell us. Did you know we were here? Did you come by accident?” Ruddy pushed his midshipman’s cap back from his forehead. “It wasn’t by accident,” he said solemnly. “Since Hal’s come home, he’s been funny. It’s been worryin’ Ma; I’ve heard her talk about it. He’s brought dolls and silly things like that; and then he’s gone away with the dolls, without saying where he was going, and come back without ’em. He’s been acting kind o’ stealthy; we wouldn’t even have known they were dolls except for Harriet She looked among his socks and found ’em. I read ha’penny-bloods about detectives; one day I’m goin’ to be the greatest detective in the world. So I said to myself, ’I’ll clear up this mystingry and put Ma’s mind at rest’ I looked in Hal’s pockets and found a letter from a Farmer Joseph, posted at Ware. There you are! All the rest was easy.” “But what were you doing on the road?”