“ Mr. Solent is taking care of me, Weevil,” said Miss Gault indignantly. “What does the man mean by ‘must’ umpire? I don’t see where the ‘must’ comes in.”

Wolf looked the excited lad up and down. Miss Gault’s words had not abashed him in the least. There was even an air of spiteful arrogance in his manner, an air which seemed to say, “As the Squire’s emissary to his secretary, I am the most important person here.”

“I’m afraid there is a ‘must’ in this, Miss Gault,” Wolf said quietly. “It was agreed between us before we came on the scene that I was to umpire when Mr. Urquhart had to leave. It isn’t Mr. Weevil’s fault that he happens to be the messenger of ill-fortune!”

The lady drew herself up in high dudgeon. “Well! Run off, both of you, as fast as you can,” she said.