"You have been detected. Your villainy is exposed, and your d.a.m.ned rascality is at an end," said the irate Mr. Harris.

"For twenty years in the pen at Salem, eh, old chappie!" said Sam, with a grin of satisfaction.

"Curse the luck," muttered Rutley to himself. "What a fool I was not to have vanished last night. It's deuced ugly, don't-che know," he continued aloud, in the same cutting accents. "Let me warn you, gentlemen, there is a limit to one's forbearance!"

"You are a cheat, a villain, an imposter!" fumed Mr. Harris. "And there is the proof," and he flourished the cablegram in Rutley's face.

"You are imposing on the public under the cloak of an a.s.sumed t.i.tle, and unless you immediately hand over to me ten thousand dollars I shall give you into custody."

"Of the officers of the law, eh, Auntie?" and as Sam uttered the last words, up went his right hand extended straight with the index finger pointing aloft.

It was the signal agreed upon for the officers to appear, and forthwith they emerged with Jack Sh.o.r.e between them, and Smith following, from a vine inclosed arbor, partially concealed by a group of trees a few rods down the hill.

Pretending not to notice the approach of the officers and their prisoner, Sam grinned at Rutley and banteringly said:

"Come now, own up, you intentionally put me 'out of business' with the automobile. But it was a bungled job, wasn't it, old chappie?"

Rutley yielded not an iota of his haughty bearing. Totally unsuspecting the near approach of the officers from behind, he directed a frigid, steady, contemptuous stare at his accusers, and with an air of puzzled understanding, said:

"What is the meaning of this insult to my honor? I again warn you, gentlemen, of your liability for libel."

"Law is a venturesome sport, my lord," ironically exclaimed Sam. "Let me introduce Mr. George Golda"--

Rutley leisurely turned and stared at Jack.

--"Alias, Jack Sh.o.r.e," continued Sam, with a laugh.

"Well, my poor man. What is your mission?" interrogated Rutley.

Jack stared steadily at Rutley, but kept silent.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha," derisively laughed Rutley. Then turning to the group, said: "What new joke is this, gentlemen?" Again he turned toward Jack in pretense of a closer scrutiny.

That Rutley was surprised was quite evident, and he stepped forward with some object in view. Mr. Harris seemed to imagine some purpose in Rutley's movement, and stepping in front of him, said: "Hold, your little game is up!"

"I guess so," quickly added Sam, who stood ready to a.s.sist.

Realizing he was at bay, Rutley recovered his self-possession as quickly as he had lost it.

Again he laughed in that high-pitched, screechy key of ineffable disdain. "He, he, he, he," and turning to Mr. Harris said, sarcastically: "The idea! You, a retired merchant, a successful business man; experienced in the qualities of keen perception, of fine discrimination, of the most perfect discernment and adroitness, to support this outrage," and he waved his hand toward Jack. And again drawing himself up erect, haughtily fixed his cold gray eyes steadily on Mr. Harris, and continued in a drawl: "It's deuced ugly, don't-che know; deuced ugly, by Jove."

While Rutley had been speaking, Virginia appeared on the scene. "Ha, Virginia," sharply called out Mrs. Harris, and she beckoned to her to hasten. "Now we shall prove his villainy."

"Ha, ha," sneered Rutley. "Now you shall realize how foully you have slandered me. The lady will prove that I am Lord Beauchamp."

As Virginia approached near, Mrs. Harris being unable to contain her impatience, again addressed her: "Virginia, dear! Can you enlighten us as to that man's ident.i.ty?"

Rutley tried to catch her eye, and at last, having succeeded, lifted his eyebrows meaningly, then nearly closed his eyes as he fixed on her a stare of glittering concentration.

"Madam," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed significantly, "beware! These gentlemen and ladies have dared to question my right to the t.i.tle of Lord Beauchamp, and I have a.s.sured them that you know me, of course you do, and will tell them so." His manner was confident and insinuating, but he had over-rated his power of hypnotic influence over the girl.

She looked at him steadily, in which freezing haughtiness, contempt and pity were commingled. Her fear of him had pa.s.sed. She did not falter now.

"Yes, I know you; and you are known to all present, but, unhappily, not as thoroughly as you are known to me."

"Who is he?" demanded Mrs. Harris.

"Beware!" cautioned Rutley, "for what you say you must prove in a court of law."

Defiant, the girl spoke, her enunciation clear and faultless. "His name is Philip Rutley, and he is masquerading as my Lord Beauchamp for fraudulent and unlawful purposes."

"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Rutley, sarcastically. "Delightfully refreshing, gentlemen."

"Oh!" came from Hazel, and then, as if doubting the announcement, exclaimed: "But the color of Rutley's hair is on the pumpkin order."

"When the dye is washed out it will be on the pumpkin order again,"

laughed Sam.

"He of the investment company?" questioned Mrs. Harris, with a puzzled expression of countenance.

"The very same chap, Auntie," said Sam.

"Dear me, such ingrat.i.tude!" and Mrs. Harris looked disgusted. "Why, the rascal promised never to return if we would not prosecute him."

"He, he, he, he, how very funny," derisively laughed Rutley, in that high-pitched, screechy falsetto key he was so well trained in, and at times he nervously stroked his Vand.y.k.e beard.

"I shall at once bring an action at law against you for malicious libel," upon which he started to pa.s.s Mr. Harris. His purpose was understood and frustrated by Sam, who promptly seized him by the collar. "I guess not!"

"Well done, Sam!" exclaimed Mrs. Harris.

"Take your hands off!" demanded Rutley, who began to scuffle violently with Sam.

"Hold him fast, Sam," cheerfully encouraged Mr. Harris, who rushed to Sam's a.s.sistance, followed by Smith.

"I guess so."

At that moment, by a dexterous movement, Rutley slipped out of his coat, swiftly turned, and exclaimed:

"d.a.m.n your eyes, take that," and violently struck at Sam, who adroitly dodged the blow, dropped the coat and squared up to him.

"I'm your huckleberry; I guess. Good time to square that little run-down now. Come down the hill out of the sight of the ladies."

"I'll go wid yees," volunteered Smith. "Sure, an' I'll see fair play, an' may the divvil take me lord."

Mr. Harris picked up Rutley's coat and there fell out of one of the pockets two packages of banknotes. He let the coat fall and picked up the packages. Flourishing them about his head, he laughed--"Ha, ha, ha, ha."

The detective turned to Jack and said, quietly: "You wanted the proof: there it is," and he pointed to the money held by Mr. Harris. "He will be pinched, but Mr. Thorpe is to secure his release."

"Why, there are twenty thousand dollars here!" exclaimed Mr. Harris, examining the packages of money.