These words from Mrs. Cooke had much more weight with my client than Mr. Trevor’s blustering demands.

“Maria, my dear,” he said, with a deferential urbanity, “Mr. Allen is my guest, and a gentleman.  When a gentleman gives his word that he is not a criminal, it is sufficient.”

The force of this, for some reason, did not overwhelm his wife; and her lip curled a little, half in contempt, half in risibility.

“Pshaw, Fenelon,” said she, “what a fraud you are.  Why is it you wish to get Mr. Allen over the border, then?” A question which might well have staggered a worthier intellect.

“Why, my dear,” answered my client, “I wish to save Mr. Allen the inconvenience, not to say the humiliation, of being brought East in custody and strapped with a pair of handcuffs.  Let him take a shooting trip to the great Northwest until the real criminal is caught.”

“Well, Fenelon,” replied Mrs. Cooke, unable to repress a smile, “one might as well try to argue with a turn-stile or a weather-vane.  I wash my hands of it.”

But Mr. Trevor, who was both a self-made man and a Western politician, was far from being satisfied.  He turned to me with a sweep of the arm he had doubtless learned in the Ohio State Senate.

“Mr. Crocker,” he cried, “are you, as attorney of this district, going to aid and abet in the escape of a fugitive from justice?”

“Mr. Trevor,” said I, “I will take the course in this matter which seems fit to me, and without advice from any one.”

He wheeled on Farrar, repeated the question, and got a like answer.

Brought to bay for a time, he glared savagely around him while groping for further arguments.

But at this point the Four appeared on the scene, much the worse for thickets, and clamoring for luncheon.  They had five small fish between them which they wanted Miss Thorn to cook.

CHAPTER XII

The Four received Mr. Cooke’s plan for the Celebrity’s escape to Canada with enthusiastic acclamation, and as the one thing lacking to make the Bear Island trip a complete success.  The Celebrity was hailed with the reverence due to the man who puts up the ring-money in a prize-fight.  He was accorded, too, a certain amount of respect as a defaulter, which the Four would have denied him as an author, for I am inclined to the belief that the discovery of his literary profession would have lowered him rather than otherwise in their eyes.  My client was naturally anxious to get under way at once for the Canadian border, but was overruled in this by his henchmen, who demanded something to eat.  We sat down to an impromptu meal, which was an odd affair indeed.  Mrs. Cooke maintained her usual serenity, but said little, while Miss Trevor and I had many a mirthful encounter at the thought of the turn matters had taken.