"I wanted him too much ever to let him slip through my fingers again." Terry's boast came true and Radnor dined at Four-Pools Plantation that night.

The news of his release had in some way preceded us, and as we drove up to the house, all the negroes came crowding out on the portico to welcome home "young Marse Rad." But the one person who--whatever the circumstances--had always been first to welcome him back, was missing; and the poor boy felt his home-coming a very barren festival.
Terry was steadfast in the assertion that he had an engagement in New York the next day, and as soon as supper was over I drove him to the station.

He was in an ecstatically self-satisfied frame of mind.
"Do you know I'm a pretty all-round fellow," he observed in a burst of confidence.

"I've always known better than the proprietor how the paper ought to be run, and I can give the police points about detective work.
I'm something of a cook, and I can play the hand-organ like Paderewski; but this is the first time I ever tried my hand at matchmaking and it comes as easy as a murder mystery!" "You think that their engagement is due to you ?" "But isn't it?
If it weren't for me they'd have it all to go over again from the beginning, and there's no telling how long they'd take about it." "I hope they appreciate your services, Terry.

You're so modest that what you do is in danger of being overlooked." "They appreciate me fast enough," returned Terry, imperturbably.