Old Silas Watson, dignified lawyer as he was, actually danced a hornpipe when he beheld his old friend safe and sound.  But he shook his head reproachfully when he learned of the adventure his ward and the two girls had undertaken with such temerity but marvelous success.

Beth had quickly recovered from her weakness, although Kenneth had insisted on keeping her arm all the way home.  But the girl had been silent and thoughtful, and would eat nothing at dinner.

When they had gathered in their room to talk it all over the lawyer thought his young friends deserved a reproof.

“The money wasn’t worth the risk, you crazy lunatics!” he said.

“It wasn’t the money at all,” replied Patsy, demurely.

“No?”

“It was the principle of the thing.  And wasn’t Beth just wonderful, though?”

“Shucks!” said Kenneth.  “She had to go and faint, like a ninny, and she cried all the way home, because she had hurt the brigand’s finger.”

The girl’s eyes were still red, but she answered the boy’s scornful remark by saying, gravely: 

“I am sorry it had to be done.  I’ll never touch a revolver again as long as I live.”

Uncle John gathered his brave niece into an ample embrace.

“I’m very proud of you, my dear,” he said, stroking her hair lovingly, “and you mustn’t pay any attention to that silly boy.  I’ve always known you were true blue, Beth, and now you have proved it to everyone.  It may have been a reckless thing to do, as Mr. Watson says, but you did it like a major, and saved our self-esteem as well as our money.”

“Hurrah for Beth!” yelled the boy, changing his colors without a blush.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll box your ears,” said his guardian, sternly.

Uncle John and young Ferralti were the heroes of the evening.  The little old gentleman smoked a big cigar and beamed upon his nieces and friends with intense satisfaction, while Ferralti sat glum and silent beside Louise until an abrupt challenge from Mr. Merrick effectually aroused him.

“I’ve only one fault to find with this young man,” was the observation referred to:  “that he made our acquaintance under false pretenses.  When a fairly decent fellow becomes an impostor there is usually reason for it, and I would like Count Ferralti—­or whatever his name is—­to give us that reason and make a clean breast of his deception.”

Ferralti bowed, with a serious face, but looked significantly toward the other members of the company.

“Whatever you have to say should be heard by all,” declared Uncle John, answering the look.

“Perhaps you are right, Mr. Merrick, and all present are entitled to an explanation,” answered the young man, slowly.  “I may have been foolish, but I believe I have done nothing that I need be ashamed of.  Fortunately, there is now no further reason for concealment on my part, and in listening to my explanation I hope you will be as considerate as possible.”