yo' his real name yo'd open yo' eyes wider yet. But take it from me,"
went on Shag, "he don't need no books t' make excitin' readin' fo' him!
He's been froo it fo' yeahs!"

"Sufferin' tadpoles!" murmured the boy. "And to think I was offering
_him_ a detective yarn! Say, no wonder he flew at me!"

"He didn't mean nothin'," said Shag, still chuckling as he thought of
the scene. "It's jest his way."

The train rumbled on through the early night, and in his comfortable
chair Colonel Ashley read his Walton, the ingratiating humor of the
dear, old fisherman gradually dispelling all other thoughts.

Colonel Ashley at this stage of his career, was almost an international
figure. Having served with distinction in the Spanish-American war,
among his exploits being the capture of a number of spies in a
sensational manner, he had become the head of the police department in
a large city in the East.

He had continued the work begun in the army--a branch of the secret
service--and had built up the city's detective department in an almost
marvelous manner, he himself being one of its keenest sleuths.
Desiring more time to devote to the detection of crimes of other than
ordinary interest, and realizing that the routine of police work was
too hampering for him, the colonel had opened an office in New York,
where, straightway, he received from the government and private persons
more work than he could well attend to. Now that he was getting old,
he had some able assistants, but most cases still received his own
attention at some stage of their development. This was characteristic
of the colonel. He was always going to retire, in fact he said he had,
but, somehow or other, it was like a singer's farewell, always
postponed.

"And now, Shag, don't forget what I told you," he said to his attendant
as the train drew into Colchester. "Don't you so much as scratch the
varnish on the tip of one of my rods. And if you let me hear a whisper
of anything bordering on a case you and I part company--do you hear?"

"I heahs yo' Colonel!" and the negro saluted, for the detective still
clung to many of his military associations. Then, having kept his
promise in seeing that the old lady was safely helped from the train,
Colonel Ashley followed his valet, burdened with bags and rods.

The fishing rods Shag carried, he must have managed to transport safely
to the hotel the colonel was to occupy for a two weeks' vacation and
rest, for the military detective was smiling and good-natured when he
took them from their cases and gently placed them on the bed.

"Anything else, Colonel?" asked Shag, when he had laid out his master's
clothes, and was preparing to go to his own apartment in an annex to
the hotel.

"No, I guess that's all, Shag. But what's your hurry? You aren't
usually in such haste to leave me, even if you have laid out all my
duds. What's the matter? Got some friends in town?"

"Oh, no, sah, Colonel! No, indeedy! 'tain't dat at all!"

"Well, what is it? Why are you in such haste to get away?"

"Um! Ah! Well, I don't laiks fo' t' tell yo' Colonel!" and Shag
seemed uneasy.

"You don't like to tell me? Look here, you black rascal! don't try to
hide anything from me, do you hear? You know me, and--"

"Oh, indeedy I does know yo', Colonel! Dat's jest why I don't wan t'
tell yo'! It--it's 'bout one ob dem t'ings!"

"What things? Shag, you rascal, look here! Have you been buying a
newspaper?"

"Ye--ye--yes, sah, Colonel, I has! But I done bought it fo' mahse'f.
Deed an' I wasn't goin' t' let yo' hab so much as a snift at it,
Colonel! De train-boy, whut yo' gib a dollar t', he handed it t' me
when I was gittin' off. It's one ob de papers gotten out right yeah in
dis city, an'--"

"Well, out with it, Shag! What's in it that's so mighty interesting?"

"Er--Colonel--yo' see--yo' done tole me--"

"Oh, out with it, Shag! I'll forgive you, I suppose. What is it?"

"Well, Colonel, sah, de paper done got in it an 'count ob a strange an'
mysterious murder case, an'--"

"I knew it! I knew it! I could almost have taken my oath on it!"
cried the excitable colonel. "Here I come to this place to have some
quiet fishing in the suburbs, to get a complete rest, and yet not be
too far from civilization, and no sooner do I get off the train than
there's a murder mystery thrust right under my nose! Right under my
nose! By Gad! I knew it!"

Shag stood, resting his weight first on one foot and then on the other,
his head bowed. He was trying to keep from slipping from under his
vest, where he had hidden it, a newspaper, with glaring, black
headlines. Shag looked timidly at his master.



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