“If any one approaches the house—­any one, you understand—­make him a prisoner and send for me,” he ordered.  “If he resists, shoot.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied, moving over and stationing themselves one at each angle of the narrow paths that ran before the old house.

Del Mar turned and plunged deliberately into the bushes, as if for a cross country walk, unobserved.

Meanwhile, by another path up the bluff, the tramp had made his way parallel to the line taken by the men.  He paused at the top of the bluff where some bushes overhung and parted them.

“Their headquarters,” he remarked to himself, under his breath.

Elaine, Aunt Josephine and I were on the lawn that forenoon when a groom in resplendent livery came up to us.

“Miss Elaine Dodge?” he bowed.

Elaine took the note he offered and he departed with another bow.

“Oh, isn’t that delightful,” she cried with pleasure, handing the note to me.

I read it:  “The Wilkeshire Country Club will be honored if Miss Dodge and her friends will join the paper chase this afternoon.  L.H.  Brown, Secretary.”

“I suppose a preparation for the fox or drag hunting season?” I queried.

“Yes,” she replied.  “Will you go?”

“I don’t ride very well,” I answered, “but I’ll go.”

“Oh, and here’s Mr. Del Mar,” she added, turning.  “You’ll join us at the Wilkeshire hunt in a paper chase this afternoon, surely, Mr. Del Mar?”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” he agreed gracefully.

For several minutes we chatted, planning, then he withdrew.  “I shall meet you on the way to the Club,” he promised.

It was not long before Elaine was ready, and from the stable a groom led three of the best trained cross-country horses in the neighborhood, for old Taylor Dodge, Elaine’s father, had been passionately fond of hunting, as had been both Elaine and Aunt Josephine.

We met on the porch and a few minutes later mounted and cantered away.  On the road Del Mar joined us and we galloped along to the Hunt Club, careful, however, to save the horses as much as possible for the dash over the fields.

. . . . . . .

For some time the uncouth tramp continued gazing fixedly out of the bushes at the deserted hotel.

Suddenly, he heard a noise and dropped flat on the ground, looking keenly about.  Through the trees he could see one of Del Mar’s men stationed on sentry duty.  He was leaning against a tree, on the alert.

The tramp rose cautiously and moved off in another direction to that in which he had been making his way, endeavoring to flank the sentry.  Further along, however, another of Del Mar’s men was standing in the same attentive manner near a path that led from the woods.

As the tramp approached, the sentry heard a crackle of the brush and stepped forward.  Before the tramp knew it, he was covered by a rifle from the sentry in an unexpected quarter.