Archie was not killed, but he presented a very forlorn-looking appearance when the party arrived at the scene of action. Covered with dust, one eye closed and blood pouring from his nose, he sat ignominiously on the ground, while Jerry--his own nose bleeding profusely--towered above him, his eyes blazing with wrath. “Apologize,” Jerry commanded, “apologize this minute, or I’ll do it again!” “I--I apologize,” faltered Archie, beginning to cry. “You’re a wicked boy, though, and I’ll have you arrested for treating me like this, see if I don’t.” “What was the trouble, Jerry?” Stephen inquired, while Ada fell upon her cousin with a torrent of mingled sympathy and reproach. “He said something he had no business to,” returned Jerry. “I’d rather not repeat it, if you don’t mind. It was a lie, and that’s enough for anybody to know.” “Archie, you didn’t say anything horrid about Gretel!” cried Ada, indignantly. “If you did I’m not a bit sorry he made your nose bleed.” “I only said----” began Archie, but Jerry cut him short. “None of that now, do you hear? You say one more word, and you’ll get something more from me. I’d kill any fellow who dared say a word against Gretel, even if he were twice my size.” “Jerry, you’re a trump!” cried Stephen, giving the boy a sounding slap on the back. “I honor you. Now go into the house and wash your face. As for you, you little cad,” he added, turning to the crestfallen Archie, “you deserve ten times more than you’ve got, and I hope I shall never see you on this place again.” And, quite regardless of Ada’s reproachful glances, he turned and followed Jerry back to the house. CHAPTER XIII SUSPENSE “Don’t you really think, Geraldine, that you could manage to sit still for at least five minutes?” Mrs. Barlow’s tone was plaintive, as she lifted her head from the sofa cushions in her darkened bedroom. Geraldine turned from the open window, where she had been trying to peep through the closed blinds, and came over to her mother’s side. “I’m sorry I bother you, Mummy,” she said. “I really am trying to keep quiet, but it’s so hard to settle down to anything. I suppose I’m nervous.” “Nervous!” repeated Mrs. Barlow, with a sigh; “I should think you were! We are all nervous, for that matter, and who can wonder at it. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since it happened, and if it were not for the bromide Dr. Trevor gives me, I’m sure I don’t know where I should be now. As it is, my head is splitting.” “Let me bathe it with cologne,” proposed Geraldine, eager for any occupation, “or else let me fan you.” “The scent of the cologne makes me ill, but you may fan me if you like. This heat is frightful. I am sure the thermometer must be up to ninety. Don’t you want to go and look?” “Where’s the use? You’ll only feel worse if you know how hot it is. It’s cooler in this room than anywhere else. The sun doesn’t come here till afternoon. Then you can go into the library.”