There was a faint sparkle in Violet Wayne’s eyes, and a suspicion of color in her cheek. “How do you know that my code is as lenient as your own—and are you wise in asking me to take so much on trust?” Appleby smiled gravely. “I think I grasp your meaning, but if you try to follow up any clue I may have given you it can only lead you into a pitfall. Please wait, and I think I can engage that Tony will tell you the whole story. It would come best from himself, but he must substantiate it, and that is what I expect I can enable him to do.” The color grew a trifle plainer in Violet Wayne’s cheek, and Appleby, who guessed her thoughts, shook his head. “There is a question you are too proud to ask, but I will venture to answer it,” he said. “I have known Tony a long while, and he has never wavered in his allegiance to you. To doubt that would be an injustice you have too much sense to do yourself. Now you have the simple truth, and if it is a trangression to tell it you, you must remember that I have had no training in conventional niceties.” The girl looked at him with a curious little glow in her eyes. “Tony has the gift of making good friends,” she said. “One could have faith in you.” She turned and left him, while Appleby, who went down, found Godfrey Palliser talking to the under‐keeper on the terrace. He was a spare, gray‐haired gentleman, formal and fastidious, and betrayed his impatience only by a faint incisiveness of speech. “Davidson has kept us waiting half an hour, it has never happened before, and it shall not occur again,” he said. “You have been round to the lodge, Evans?” “Yes, sir,” said the man. “They had not seen him since last night. He told them he was going to the fir spinny. Some of the Darsley men had been laying snares for hares.” “It shall be looked into, but we will make a start now as you have sent the beaters on,” said Palliser, who turned to his guests. “I am sorry we have kept you waiting, gentlemen.” They started, and, as it happened, Tony and Appleby sat at the back of the dog‐cart which followed the larger vehicle, while the rattle of gravel beneath the wheels rendered their conversation inaudible to those who sat in front. “You heard what Evans said?” asked Tony anxiously. “Of course!” said Appleby. “I am almost afraid Davidson has made a bolt. If he hadn’t he would have come for the twenty pounds.” “I hope so,” and Tony drew in a deep breath. “It would be a merciful relief to feel I had seen the last of him. Why in the name of all that’s wonderful are you afraid he has gone?” “Because I wanted a statement and your letter from him,” said Appleby. “You see, you will have to tell Miss Wayne that story sooner or later.” “Tell her!” said Tony blankly. “I’ll be shot if I do!” “Then she’ll find out, and it will be considerably the worse for you.”