looks of it, ain't bin there as many hours.' I knew there wasn't
any wimin hereabouts. I reckoned it couldn't hev bin dropped by
Uncle Dick or that other man, for you would have seen it on the
road. So I allowed it might have bin YOU. And yer it is." He
slowly drew from his pocket--what Key was fully prepared to see--
the mate of the slipper Key had in his saddle-bags! The fair
fugitive had evidently lost them both.

But Key was better prepared now (perhaps this kind of dissimulation
is progressive), and quickly alive to the necessity of throwing
Collinson off this unexpected scent. And his companion's own
suggestion was right to his hand, and, as it seemed, again quite
providential! He laughed, with a quick color, which, however,
appeared to help his lie, as he replied half hysterically, "You're
right, old man, I own up, it's mine! It's d--d silly, I know--but
then, we're all fools where women are concerned--and I wouldn't
have lost that slipper for a mint of money."

He held out his hand gayly, but Collinson retained the slipper
while he gravely examined it.

"You wouldn't mind telling me where you mought hev got that?" he
said meditatively.

"Of course I should mind," said Key with a well-affected mingling
of mirth and indignation. "What are you thinking of, you old
rascal? What do you take me for?"

But Collinson did not laugh. "You wouldn't mind givin' me the size
and shape and general heft of her as wore that shoe?"