"Miss Osborne," responded Jerry, "while I should be glad, to assist you in recovering your father as a slight return for your having placed mine in the Dilwell County jail and kept him there all night, I regret that I am unable to be of the slightest help to you."
The perspiration was beading Ardmore's brow, but he smiled as though in joy at Jerry's readiness.
"We have taken a number of prisoners," said Ardmore, meeting the governor's glance, "and while I do not think Governor Osborne can possibly be of the number, yet I shall be glad to produce them all. There's a person in the corn-crib a little way across country whom I captured myself. I believe he's now tied to a mulberry tree a little way down the road, as he pretended to be the governor of South Carolina and I feared that he might do himself some harm."
Before he ceased speaking big Paul strode in, an angry and crestfallen man following at his heels.
"Oh, father!"
It was Barbara Osborne's voice; but whatever of anger or joy there may have been in her words and tone was lost in the shout of laughter that broke from Governor Dangerfield. The governor of South Carolina was in no such high humor. He sputtered, swore, stamped his foot and struck the table with his clenched hand as he demanded to know the meaning of the outrageous indignity to which he had been subjected.
The more his friend stormed the more Governor Dangerfield roared with laughter, but when he could control himself he laid an arresting arm on Governor Osborne's shoulder, and spoke to Barbara.
"Barbara, may I ask whether you, like my own Jerry, have been protecting your father's fair name during his absence; and does that account for my night spent in the jail at Kildare? If so—"
Governor Dangerfield's laughter got the better of him, but Barbara, with dignity, turned to her father.