His first action was to acquaint Derby with the plans, and then to send a note of instructions to Eleanor, guarding against any chance that they might not be able to communicate with each other in person.

“It’s all fixed,” he announced to Derby, in a secluded corner of the grounds.  “To-night at nine we are to be at the church down the road there—­see it?  Nobody is on to us, and Jim has a key.  He will meet you there at a quarter of nine.  But, hang it all, his wife can’t act as a witness.  We’ve got to provide one.  He suggested the postmaster, but I don’t like the idea; it looks too much like a cheap elopement.  I’d just as soon have the cook or the housemaid.  I’ll get Eleanor there if I have to kill that Van Truder woman.  Now, whom shall we have as the second witness?”

“Windomshire, I’m afraid,” lamented Derby.  “You won’t be able to get rid of him.”

“Hang him!” groaned Dauntless, his spirits falling, but instantly reviving.  “But he’s dead in love with Miss Courtenay.  It’s pitiful, old man.  He feels that he’s got to marry Nell, but it’s not in his heart to do it.  Now if we could only shunt him off on to Miss Courtenay this evening!  Her train leaves at nine, they say.  He might be forced to take her to the station if you will only get busy and make him jealous.”

“Jealous?  I?”

“Certainly.  It won’t be much of an effort for you, and it will help me immensely.  Make love to her this afternoon, and when you suggest taking her to the station this evening he’ll be so wrought up that he won’t stand for it.  See what I mean?”

“Now see here, Joe, I’m willing to do a great deal for you, but this is too much.  You forget that I am a minister of the gospel.  It’s—­”

“I know, old man, but you might do a little thing like this for—­By Jove, I’ve got it!  Why not have old Mr. Van Truder for the other witness?”

Mr. Van Truder was crossing the lawn, picking his way carefully.

“Good afternoon,” greeted Dauntless.

“Afternoon,” responded Mr. Van Truder.  “Is this the hotel?”

“No, sir; the hotel is about ten feet to your left.  By the way, Mr. Van Truder, would you mind doing me a favour this evening?”

“Gladly.  Who are you?”

“Joe Dauntless.”

“Anything, my dear Joe.”

“Well, it’s a dead secret.”

“A secret?  Trust me,” cried the old man, joyfully.

“First, let me introduce my friend, the Rev. Mr. Derby.  He’s in the secret.  It will go no farther, I trust, Mr. Van Truder.”

“My wife says I can’t keep a secret, but I’ll show her that I can.  Trust me, my boy.”

“I’ll bet you a hundred dollars you can’t keep this one,” said Joe, inspired.

“Done!”

“Well,” bravely but cautiously, “I’m going to be married to-night.  Be careful now!  Look out!  Don’t explode!  Remember the bet!” The old gentleman repressed his feelings.