The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon

The chief was deeply interested in the story of the goat-hunter and his party. There was an odd gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, but she did not observe it.

      “You will see that he has immediate attention, won’t you?” she implored in the end.

      “He shall have our deepest consideration,” promised he.

      “You know I am rather interested, because I shot him, just as if it were not enough that his legs were being torn by the brute at the time. He ought not to walk, Baron Dangloss. If you don’t mind, I’d suggest an ambulance,” she hurried on glibly. He could not conceal the smile that her eagerness inspired. “Really, he is in a serious condition. I think he needs some quinine and whiskey, too, and—”

      “He shall have the best of care,” interrupted the captain. “Leave him to me, Miss Calhoun.”

      “Now, let me tell you something,” said she, after due reflection. “You must not pay any attention to what he says. He is liable to be delirious and talk in a terrible sort of way. You know delirious people never talk rationally.” She was loyally trying to protect Baldos, the hunted, against any incriminating statements he might make.

      “Quite right, Miss Calhoun,” said the baron very gravely.

      “And now, I’d like to go to the princess,” said Beverly, absolutely sure of herself. “You know we are great friends, she and I.”

      “I have sent a messenger to announce your arrival. She will expect you.” Beverly looked about the room in perplexity.

      “But there has been no messenger here,” she said.

      “He left here some minutes before you came. I knew who it was that came knocking at our gates, even though she traveled as Princess Yetive of Graustark.”

      “And, oh! that reminds me, Baron Dangloss, Baldos still believes me to be the princess. Is it necessary to—to tell him the truth about me? Just at present, I mean? I’m sure he’ll rest much easier if he doesn’t know differently.”

      “So far as I am concerned, Miss Calhoun, he shall always regard you as a queen,” said Dangloss gallantly.

      “Thank you. It’s very nice of you to—”

      A man in uniform entered after knocking at the door of the room. He saluted his superior and uttered a few words in his own language.

      “Her royal highness is awaiting you at the home of the countess, Miss Calhoun. A detail of men will escort you and your servant to her place.”

      “Now, please, Baron Dangloss,” pleaded Beverly at the door, “be nice to him. You know it hurts him to walk. Can’t you have him carried in?”

      “If he will consent,” said he quietly. Beverly hurried into the outer room, after giving the baron a smile he never forgot. Baldos looked up eagerly, anxiously.

      “It’s all right,” she said in low tones, pausing for a moment beside his chair. “Don’t get up! Good-bye. I’ll come to see you tomorrow. Don’t be in the least disturbed. Baron Dangloss has his instructions.” Impulsively giving him her hand which he respectfully raised to his lips, she followed Aunt Fanny and was gone.

      Almost immediately Baldos was requested to present himself before Baron Dangloss in the adjoining room. Refusing to be carried in, he resolutely strode through the door and stood before the grim old captain of police, an easy, confident smile on his face. The black patch once more covered his eye with defiant assertiveness.

      “They tell me you are Baldos, a goat-hunter,” said Baron Dangloss, eyeing him keenly.

      “Yes.”

      “And you were hurt in defending one who is of much consequence in Graustark. Sit down, my good fellow.” Baldos’ eyes gleamed coldly for an instant. Then he sank into a chair. “While admitting that you have done Graustark a great service, I am obliged to tell you that I, at least, know you to be other than what you say. You are not a goat-hunter, and Baldos is not your name. Am I not right?”

      “You have had instructions from your sovereign, Baron Dangloss. Did they include a command to cross-question me?” asked Baldos haughtily. Dangloss hesitated for a full minute.

      “They did not. I take the liberty of inquiring on my own responsibility.”

      “Very well, sir. Until you have a right to question me, I am Baldos and a goat-hunter. I think I am here to receive surgical treatment.”

      “You decline to tell me anything concerning yourself?”

      “Only that I am injured and need relief.”

      “Perhaps I know more about you than you suspect, sir.”

      “I am not in the least interested, Baron Dangloss, in what you know. The princess brought me into Ganlook, and I have her promise of help and protection while here. That is all I have to say, except that I have implicit faith in her word.”

      Dangloss sat watching him in silence for some time. No one but himself knew what was going on in that shrewd, speculative mind. At length he arose and approached the proud fellow in rags.

      “You have earned every consideration at our hands. My men will take you to the hospital and you shall have the best of care. You have served our princess well. Tomorrow you may feel inclined to talk more freely with me, for I am your friend, Baldos.”

      “I am grateful for that, Baron Dangloss,” said the other simply. Then hewas led away and a comfortable cot in the Ganlook hospital soon held his long, feverish frame, while capable hands took care of his wounds. He did not know it, but two fully armed soldiers maintained a careful guard outside his door under instructions from the head of the police. Moreover, a picked detail of men sallied forth into the lower pass in search of the goat-hunter’s followers.

      In the meantime Beverly was conducted to the home of the Countess Rallowitz. Her meeting with the princess was most affectionate. There were tears, laughter and kisses. The whole atmosphere of the place suggested romance to the eager American girl. Downstairs were the royal guards; in the halls were attendants; all about were maidservants and obsequious lackeys, crowding the home of the kindly countess. At last, comfortable and free from the dust of travel, the two friends sat down to a dainty meal.

      “Oh, I am so delighted,” murmured Beverly for the hundredth time.

      “I’m appalled when I think of the dangers you incurred in coming to me. No one but a very foolish American girl could have undertaken such a trip as this. Dear me, Beverly, I should have died if anything dreadful had happened to you. Why did you do it?” questioned the princess. And then they laughed joyously.

      “And you went all the way to St. Petersburg to meet me, you dear, dear Yetive,” cried Beverly, so warmly that the attentive servant forgot his mask of reverence.

      “Wasn’t it ridiculous of me? I know Gren would have forbidden it if he had been in Edelweiss when I started. And, more shame to me, the poor fellow is doubtless at the conference with Dawsbergen, utterly ignorant of my escapade. You should have heard the ministry—er—ah—” and the princess paused for an English word.

      “Kick?” Beverly supplied.

      “Yes. They objected violently. And, do you know, I was finally compelled to issue a private edict to restrain them from sending an appeal to Grenfall away off there on the frontier. Whether or no, my uncle insisted that he should be brought home, a three-days’ journey, in order that he might keep me from going to St. Petersburg. Of course, they could not disobey my edict, and so poor Gren is none the wiser, unless he has returned from the conference. If he has, I am sure he is on the way to Ganlook at this very minute.”

      “What a whimsical ruler you are,” cried Beverly. “Upsetting everything sensible just to rush off hundreds of miles to meet me. And Axphain is trying to capture you, too! Goodness, you must love me!”

      “Oh, but I did have a trifling affair of state to lay before the Czar, my dear. Tomorrow we shall be safe