"Oftener than I can tell."
"I have been wondering," he said, looking gravely into her eyes, "why you both so carefully avoided the slightest allusion to that most exciting episode of your stay at Viamede."
Elsie blushed. "We did not wish to make you uneasy, papa."
"Of course, you must have seen a newspaper account?" observed Mr. Travilla.
"Yes; and now suppose you let me hear your report. Did the villain's shot graze Elsie's forehead and carry a tress of her beautiful hair?"
"No, no, it was only a lock of her unworthy husband's hair—a much slighter loss," Travilla said, laughing. "But perhaps the reporter would justify his misrepresentation on the plea that man and wife are one."
"Possibly. And did your shot shatter the bone in the rascal's arm?"
"No; Dr. Balis told me the ball glanced from the bone, passed under the nerve and severed the humeral artery."
"It's a wonder he didn't bleed to death."
"Yes; but it seems he had sufficient knowledge and presence of mind to improvise a tourniquet with his handkerchief and a stick."