“Shirley, I caught this man in the sheepfold. Did you ever see him before?”
“I think not, Dick.”
“It was he that brought your horse home.”
“To be sure it is! I hadn’t recognized him. Thank you very much;” and she smiled at Oscar.
Dick frowned fiercely and referred again to the paper.
“Where is Monsieur Chauvenet—have you any idea?”
“If he isn’t at the hotel or in Washington, I’m sure I don’t know. If we are going to the dance—”
“Plague the dance! I heard a shot in the sheep pasture a bit ago and ran out to find this fellow in a row with another man, who got away.”
“I heard the shot and the dogs from my window. You seem to have been in a fuss, too, from the looks of your clothes;” and Shirley sat down and smoothed her gloves with provoking coolness.
Dick sent Oscar to the far end of the library with a gesture, and held up the message for Shirley to read.