"Run away, dears, run away to your play," Elsie said to her children, and at once they obeyed.
"Uncle Joe came in this morning with a story that Jones, the stage driver had been shot by them last night in this vicinity," Mr. Travilla answered, "but I stopped him in the midst of it, as the children were present. Is it a fact?"
"Only too true," replied Mr. Dinsmore.
"Yes," said Horace, "I rode into the town, before breakfast, found it full of excitement; the story on everybody's tongue, and quite a large crowd about the door of the house where the body of the murdered man lay."
"And is the murderer still at large," asked Elsie.
"Yes; and the worst of it is that no one seems to have the least idea who he is."
"The disguise preventing recognition, of course," said Mr. Travilla.
Then the grandfather and uncle were surprised with an account of little
Vi's escapade.
"If Violet were my child," said Mr. Dinsmore, "I should consult Dr. Burton about her at once. There must be undue excitement of the brain that might be remedied by proper treatment."
Elsie cast an anxious look at her husband.