FROM that time forward the Admiral was a persistent caller at the Highwoods, for he could not regain his natural composure until he had seen and questioned Phil. The first evening he called Phil had gone out to dinner with some old classmates, and as the Admiral said nothing of the purpose of his visit there was nothing to prevent Phil from remaining late at his office the next night.

All the while, too, Jermyn, whom the Admiral met daily at breakfast, carried himself with an air of bravado which was in the highest degree exasperating. Was it possible that the fellow had himself secured those sketches in some way, and was having a malignantly delightful time in torturing an old man who had been his best friend? It did not seem possible, so one morning the Admiral cautiously remarked:

"By the way, have you done anything about those sketches?"

"Not a thing."

"You don't know anything about them?"

"No more than when we first came North."

"When do you intend to find out?"

"Never, if there's no way but the one you have suggested."

"I don't wonder," said the Admiral icily, "that you're willing to lose your share of the money, for a man in love is generally fool enough to think that he, and particularly his wife, can live on air, but——"

"Admiral!"

"Oh, be angry, if you like, but I mean it. On the other hand, do you think it is conduct becoming an officer and gentleman to deprive me of a lot of money when I've several times put myself to great inconvenience, out of unselfish regard for you?"

"I'd do almost anything in the world to oblige you, Admiral," replied Jermyn, "but after what you've said regarding what you might do with your share of the money, you can't blame me for being reluctant."

"See here, dear boy," pleaded the Admiral, "I'll withdraw that threat if you'll get merely your own sketch. I'll cheerfully lose my own share, if I may feel entirely comfortable about your future."

That shot told. Jermyn could not endure the thought of any man playing martyr for him, so he answered somewhat sulkily:

"I must do it."

"Good! When?"

"Very soon."

"Time is precious, dear boy." Then the Admiral told of his plan regarding Trixy's scrap-book, and his defeat, and finally asked:

"Don't you suppose you could make another sketch of the surroundings of that placer as you did at the fort?"

"Easily."

The Admiral hastily offered the back of a letter and a pencil, and followed with his eyes each mark that Jermyn made. When the sketch was almost complete, Jermyn stopped and asked:

"Why do you want this, Admiral?"

"For use as a voucher, in case your original should be lost."

"Oh, that would be a forgery!"

"Nonsense! Can a man forge his own signature? What would you say in answer to that question, if you were member of a court-martial?"

"I scarcely know," replied Jermyn slowly, "but—" here he paused long enough to tear the paper into strips, and tear the strips crosswise, "I must give my honor the benefit of the doubt."

"Oh, you idiot," exclaimed the old gentleman angrily. "You're worse than an idiot, for you're intimating that I, an officer and gentleman, am counselling a crime."

"Forgive me, Admiral. You know very well that I couldn't, for an instant, think such a thing. Still, any man must be ruled by his own conscience."

Jermyn went down to the Sandy Hook proving-grounds, and the Admiral spent a miserable day, relieved somewhat by a call upon Kate, to whom he determined to tell the whole story, and to appeal to her, first for Jermyn's sake and then for his own, to help him to get those sketches. He knew women, he thought; Kate was a young woman of unusual balance of mind, so she probably had been sensible enough to wonder on what she and Jermyn would live after they married. They would soon marry, the Admiral was sure; for love, like many other disturbances to which humanity is subject, acts most powerfully where longest delayed or avoided.

But, alas, for human courage! The veteran who had led boarding parties and storming parties, could not muster sufficient courage to tell a woman that another woman had been bent upon making a match for her, and that two men, one of whom was the young woman's own lover, had seen the plan in black and white, while Kate herself had no thought of ever becoming Mrs. Jermyn.

So he called again at the Highwoods, made a full confession to Trif and her husband, and begged for the sketches. Fortunately, the couple were alone, Harry and Fenie having gone to a dinner which the Trewmans were giving to both happy couples. Phil seemed greatly amused by the story, and said:

"So that explains the mystery of those two pictures!" Then, for the first time, he told Trif of meeting Jermyn in Madison Square, and of Jermyn's strange embarrassment on seeing one of the pictures, and how Phil himself had chanced to see the other, only two or three days before the Admiral's call, in Trixy's scrap-book, extracted it, and put the two together to make a pretense of mystery some evening for Trif's bewilderment and his own amusement.

"You dreadful fellow!" exclaimed Trif. "The idea of you keeping a secret from me—and for three whole days!"

"But, pardon me," said the Admiral, "do either of you find it impossible to forgive me?"

"On the contrary," replied Phil, "it is impossible to see where you were to blame. Trixy herself took the letter to you and asked you to finish it, so you couldn't help reading it. Neither could you help supposing it to be what she thought it, her own letter, for it began 'Dear Old Papa.'"

"But," persisted the Admiral, "I was guilty, shamefully so, that in my absent-mindedness I took it from my pocket at the club, to sketch upon."

"Just as I frequently use letters to figure upon," said Phil.

"Thank you—thank you. And poor Jermyn, in making his own sketch, and knowing, of course, the subject of conversation, looked at the written portion, supposing it to be something pertinent to the subject."

"Quite naturally, and each of you afterward had a lot of trouble which he didn't in the least deserve."

"I don't see," said Trif, "that anyone is to blame but I. The experience teaches me never again to leave a letter unfinished."

"Thank you, my dear," said Phil. "You see, Admiral, that your loss is to be my gain. Hereafter I'm not to be disappointed when longing for letters."

"What letters, papa?" asked Trixy from the sitting-room, where she was conducting a spelling lesson for dolls.

"None, dear—tis nothing that you would understand."

"If there is no feeling against me, therefore," said the Admiral, adhering to the purpose of his call, "would you mind, after erasing Mrs. Highwood's lines, giving the sketches to me?"

"It will give me the greatest pleasure to place them in your hands," said Phil, taking some papers from the pocket of his coat. "Why, they're not here! Hem! Ah, I remember; I changed some papers hurriedly this morning to my coat at the office, and apparently those were among them. I'll get them to you to-morrow, and leave them at your hotel as I come up town."

"I shall be there to receive them," said the Admiral, putting on a look of resignation. "Excuse my eagerness and anxiety in the matter, but those sketches have become a veritable nightmare to me."

"I don't wonder," said Phil, "considering what they represent. Trixy, dear, don't laugh so loud. What is the matter?"

"Oh, I'm tellin' the dolls somethin' funny, and I have to do the laughin' for the whole lot of them, don't you see?"

"Bless the child!" exclaimed the Admiral. "Don't check her, please. I wonder if the dolls would think it an intrusion if I were to look on?"

"Phil!" said Trif, suddenly.

"Yes, my dear."

"Do you want to please me very much?"

"You know I do."

"Then go down to your office to-night for those sketches—it isn't yet late enough for the janitor to be asleep. I'm sure that our friend the Admiral, will sleep much easier when he has those pictures securely in his possession."

"Oh, I couldn't think of putting you to such trouble," said the Admiral quickly, although he told himself that Trif was a woman of a million. Trif insisted, and begged the Admiral to wait until Phil's return. It seemed to the old gentleman that every minute of Phil's absence would be an hour long, yet under Trif's influence the minutes passed almost as quickly as seconds, so before long Phil's step was heard in the hall. Trif and the Admiral instinctively arose, but to their surprise they saw a very blank face as Phil exclaimed:

"'Tis the most provoking thing that ever happened. Those sketches are nowhere in the office."

"What can have become of them?" murmured Trif.

"I've not the faintest idea. Here are some more papers that were in the same pocket."

"'Foiled again,' as the villain always says in a melodrama," remarked the Admiral; "kindly consider me the villain." The old gentleman was trying to make light of his disappointment, but he looked so grave that Phil hastened to say:

"I assure you, Admiral, that the sketches can not possibly have been lost, nor can any one have stolen them. I shall make thorough search for them at once, and give myself no peace until I have found them."

"I beg that you won't put yourself to any inconvenience," said the Admiral. Nevertheless, he made haste to take his departure, hoping that the search would begin at once and continue through the night, unless the missing papers were sooner found.

"I shall carry them to you, in person, as soon as I get them," were Phil's parting words.

"Come at any hour," replied the Admiral. "Don't fear that you may disturb me."

Then he went to his hotel, and hopefully, fearfully, remained awake until and through the "dog watch" hours, but in vain.