At the bungalow, Del Mar's valet was setting the library in order when he heard a signal in the secret passage. He pressed the button on the desk and opened the panel. From it the sentry entered.
"Where is Mr. Del Mar?" he asked hurriedly, looking around. "We've been followed to the headquarters by a tramp whom I've captured, and I don't know what to do with him."
"He is not here," answered the valet. "He has gone to the Country Club."
"Confound it," returned the sentry, vexed at the enforced waste of time. "Do you think you can reach him?"
"If I hurry, I may," nodded the valet.
"Then do so," directed the sentry.
He moved back into the panel and disappeared while the valet closed it.
A moment later he, too, picked up his hat and hurried out.
At the Wilkeshire Club a large number of hunters had arrived for the imitation meet. Elaine, Aunt Josephine, Del Mar and myself rode up and were greeted by them as the Master of Fox Hounds assembled us. Off a bit, a splendid pack of hounds was held by the huntsman while they debated whether to hold a paper chase or to try a drag hunt.
"You start your cross-country riding early," commented Del Mar.
"Yes," answered Elaine. "You see we can hardly wait until autumn and the weather is so fine and cool, we feel that we ought to get into trim during the summer. So we have paper chases and drag hunts as soon as we can, mainly to please the younger set."