"Mysterious as it is, I feel satisfied that one of our number has been in dreadful peril, while he was innocently sleeping; and it is to the goodness of God that he owes his preservation. God, Who made Ralph Rexworth wake up and look from the window and then go to the help of Elgert! And I trust," he added gently, "that this circumstance may make the two chief actors in this incident better friends! I am sorry to know that they are not very friendly, but I hope that they will be so in the future!" So the affair ended--so far as public investigation went, though it was talked over again and again by the boys. The Head communicated with the police, and a detective came down; and however much he may have been bewildered and ready to put it down to the tricks of schoolboys, yet after he had seen the ladder and the bloodmark, and heard Ralph tell his story, he also had to admit that the boy was undoubtedly telling the truth, and that the school had been entered in the manner described. But Ralph worried over it. The very mystery surrounding it brought back the mystery of his father's disappearance. He pondered all day over it, until he felt weary and angry with himself; and he hailed the close of school with delight, suggesting to his chum and Warren that they should go for a good long walk, a proposal with which they immediately agreed. "Now, look here," said Ralph, when the trio had started, "there is only one thing; for mercy's sake don't talk about that business of last night! I am fairly tired of it, and I want to forget it if I can!" "All right, old chap," answered Warren, with a laugh; "let us go into the woods and see if we can find anything worth taking in the way of specimens. I got two lovely orange-tips there the other day, and some silly fellow went and knocked over my setting-board, and spoilt them both!" "The woods be it," answered Ralph readily. And so they sought the green, cool, shady glades, where the wild birds were so tame, and where such splendid butterflies and dragon flies were to be captured. They wandered hither and thither, enjoying the quiet sylvan beauty; and presently, stretched on the grass, they spoke of the difference of this scene to that which Ralph had known in his younger days; and Warren lay flat on his back, and asked question after question concerning the wild people of the great Texan plains. "I didn't know that there were any Indians left," the monitor confessed; and Ralph laughed. "Plenty of them; and then there are the Gauchos--they are of Spanish descent, and they are for ever fighting with the Indians. It is very different living out there; and, even in the towns, men seldom go about unarmed." "Pleasant," was Warren's remark. "I think that I will stop where I am; even if we do get midnight visitors now and again." "I say, that subject is forbidden," laughed Ralph. And then he was silent so long that, presently, Warren asked him what he was thinking of, and Ralph sighed.