“What are you doing here? Why don’t you tell these men that they have no right to come in here and tell me what I can do and what I cannot do?”

The boy turned shamefacedly.

“I’m sorry, Romayne, I didn’t know you would be here—I understood you were to be away—”

“Oh!” said Romayne haughtily. “So you knew what my movements were, did you? And you were in some plot against my father in his absence, it seems. Well, I thought better of you than that. I’ve always supposed you were a very nice boy—that is, in the days when we used to go to school together.”

Her tone was as if she had finished with him forever. Then she turned toward Sherwood.

“I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure you look as if you might have been a gentleman once. Will you please let go of my hand?”

“Not until you give me your word of honor that you will go over and sit down in that chair and not go near this telephone again,” said Sherwood gently but firmly. “I’m in command here, and I can’t run the risk of your messing things.”

“You’re not in command of me!” said Romayne, giving her lithe hand a quick twist and jerking it from his hold. It hurt her cruelly, but she did not wince. With a quick motion she turned toward the front door, but to her dismay she was suddenly confronted by the two men in uniform, standing like an impassable wall before her.

With a dazed look she stopped, gave each a frightened glance, and turning back to Sherwood, she drew herself up proudly.

“What does this mean?” she asked indignantly. “Do I understand that I am a prisoner in my father’s house?”

“I’m afraid you are, Miss Ransom,” answered Sherwood gravely. “I hope it will not be for long. You need not be troubled. No harm will come to you. If you will sit down, I will see that no harm comes to you.”

“Thank you. I prefer to stand,” she said frigidly.

“Just as you please,” answered her captor, “only I advise you to stand right where you are if you do not wish to be interfered with again.”

Romayne caught her underlip between her white teeth to steady its trembling. She could feel the tears smarting in her eyes. Slim and straight she stood in her pretty spring outfit, looking like a frightened child. Chris Hollister could not stand it and turned his back, pretending to be looking out from between the curtains again.

The girl had wonderful self-control. She was trying to think what she should do. It was unthinkable that she should submit to such a situation.

“What is the meaning of all this anyway? What right have you to order me about in this way in my own house?” she said, trying to hold her temper and see if she could find out what it was all about. “There certainly must be some explanation. You don’t look like a bandit!”

There was just the least trace of contempt in her voice.

“Aw gee!” breathed the boy, Chris, under his breath.

“I can explain,” said the young man gravely, “but I would rather not. I hoped perhaps that you might be spared the pain—”

“Oh!” interrupted Romayne. “Don’t trouble yourself about that. You haven’t seemed to care how much pain you inflicted. I beg you will inform me at once what all this means! It isn’t necessary to use any oratory or false friendliness. I want the facts. I’ll bear the pain!”

Her face was haughtiness itself. Her tone stung the young man and brought a flush of indignation to his cheek, but he kept his quiet voice.

“Very well, then. I will tell you.