Having dispatched the Black Minorca to hold up the work until the
arrival of reinforcements, Colonel Pennington fairly burned the
streets en route to his home. He realized that there would be no more
sleep for him that night, and he was desirous of getting into a heavy
ulster before venturing forth again into the night air.

The violent slam with which he closed the front door after him
brought Shirley, in dressing-gown and slippers, to the staircase.

"Uncle Seth!" she called.

"Here!" he replied from the hall below.

"What's the matter?"

"There's the devil to pay," he answered. "That fellow Cardigan is
back of the N.C.O., after all, and he and Ogilvy have a gang of fifty
men down at the intersection of Water and B streets, cutting in a
jump-crossing of our line."

He dashed into the living room, and she heard him calling frantically
into the telephone.

"At last!" she murmured, and crept down the stairs, pausing behind
the heavy portieres at the entrance to the living room.

"That you, Poundstone?" she heard him saying rapidly into the
transmitter. "Pennington speaking. Young Bryce Cardigan is behind