“I’ll bet on her,” cried Kenneth, with an admiring look at the girl.

“Then,” said Patsy, “it is all arranged, and I’m the captain.  And is it agreed that we won’t lisp a word to Mr. Watson or Louise?”

“Not a word.”

“Here,” said Kenneth, drawing a revolver from his pocket, “is Uncle John’s pop-gun.  It’s the only one I could find in his room, so he must have taken the other with him.  Be careful of it, Patsy, for it’s loaded all ’round.  Can you shoot?”

“No; but I suppose the pistol can.  I know enough to pull the trigger.”

“And when you do, remember to point it away from your friends.  Now hide it, my dear, and be careful of it.”

Patsy concealed the weapon in the bosom of her dress, not without making a wry face and shivering a bit.

“Have you got your revolver, Beth?” asked the boy.

“Yes.”

“And she can shoot just wonderfully!” exclaimed Patsy.  “Yesterday she picked an orange off a tree with a bullet.  You should have seen her.”

“I know,” said Ken, nodding.  “I’ve seen Beth shoot before, and she’s our main reliance in this conspiracy.  For my part, I can hit a mark sometimes, and sometimes I can’t.  See here.”  He exhibited a beautiful pearl and silver-mounted weapon which he drew from his pocket.  “Mr. Watson and I have carried revolvers ever since we came to Sicily, but we’ve never had occasion to use them.  I can hardly believe, even now, that this beautiful place harbors brigands.  It’s such a romantic incident in our prosaic world of to-day.  And now, young ladies, we are armed to the teeth and can defy an army.  Eh, Captain Pat?”

“If you’re not more respectful,” said the girl, “I’ll have you court-marshalled and drummed out of camp.”

On the afternoon train came Louise and Mr. Watson from Messina.  The American agents had responded promptly, and the bank had honored the orders and delivered the money without delay.

“It is all safe in my satchel,” said the lawyer, as they rode together to the hotel; “and our dear friends are as good as rescued already.  It’s pretty bulky, Kenneth—­four hundred thousand lira—­but it is all in notes on the Banca d’Italia, for we couldn’t manage gold.”

“Quite a haul for the brigand,” observed Kenneth, thoughtfully.

“True; but little enough for the lives of two men.  That is the way I look at the transaction.  And, since our friends can afford the loss, we must be as cheerful over the thing as possible.  It might have been a tragedy, you know.”

Louise shivered.

“I’m glad it is all over,” she said, gratefully.

The conspirators looked at one another and smiled, but held their peace.

Arriving at the hotel, Beth and Kenneth at once disappeared, saying they were going to town, as they would not be needed longer.  Patsy accompanied their cousin and the lawyer to the sitting-room, where presently Tato came to them.