"This is far more effective than burnt brown paper, Minnie," he said.
"Now, don't get excited, but mix some brandy and water, and we'll have
your mother telling us who Owd Ben is, or was, before Hawk-eye comes back
to disturb us. Judging by the noises I hear, he's busy outside."
"That's father!" shrieked Minnie hysterically.
"Good Lord! Has your father--"
For an instant, Hart was nearly alarmed, but Grant's voice came
authoritatively:
"It's all right, Bates. Let go, I tell you!"
"Phew!" said Hart. "I was on the point of confusing your respected dad
with Owd Ben ... That's it, ma! Sniff hard! As a cook you're worth your
weight in gold, which is some cook."
Meanwhile, Furneaux, seeing that no dead body was stretched on the strip
of grass beneath the window, dashed into the shrubbery to the right, and
was clutched in a mighty embrace by an older but much more powerful man
in Bates, who had hurried from the front of the house on hearing the
pistol-shot. Most fortunately, the gardener, deeming his vigil a needless
one, had not armed himself with a stick, or the consequences might have
been grave. As it was, no one except Hart had been vouchsafed sight or
sound of the latest specter, which, however, had left a very convincing
souvenir of its visit in the shape of a soft felt hat with two bullet
holes through the crown.
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