ware was neither there, nor
at his home in the country. The country-house was closed up and, in
fact, there was a rumor that it was sold, or was about to be sold. One
of the porters happened to know that Gledware had gone for a week's
diversion down in the Ozarks. There were a lake, a club-house, a
dancing-hall, as yet unopened. The season was too early for the usual
crowd at Ozark Lodge, but the warm wave that nearly always came at this
time of year, had prompted a sudden outing party which might last no
longer than the warm wave.

Willock took the first train south and rode with the car window up--the
outside breath was the breath of balmy summer though the trees stood
bleak and leafless against the sky. Two days ago, snow had fallen--but
the birds did not remember it. Seven hours brought him to a lonely
wagon-trail called Ozark Lodge because after winding among hills
several miles it at last reached the clubhouse of that name overlooking
the lake. He left the train in the dusk of evening, and walked briskly
away, the only moving figure in the wilderness.

His pace did not slacken till a gleam as of fallen sky cupped in
night-fringe warned him that the club-house must be near. A turn of a
hill brought it into view, the windows not yet aglow. Nearer at hand
was the boat-house, seemingly deserted. But as Willock, now grown
wary, crept forward among the post-oaks and blackjacks, well screened
from observation by chinkapin masses of gray interlocked network, he
discovered two figures near the platform edging the lake. Neither was
the one he sought; but from their being there--they were Edgerton
Compton and Annabel,--he knew Gledware could not be far away.

"No," Annabel was saying decisively, and yet with an accent of regret,
"No, Edgerton, I can't."

"But our last boat-ride," he urged. "Don't refuse me the last ride--a
ride to think about all my life. I'm going away tomorrow at noon, as I
promised. But early in the morning--"

"I have promised HIM," she said with lingering sadness in her voice.
"So I must go with him. He has already engaged the boatman. He'll be
here at seven, waiting for me. So you see--"

"Annabel, I shall be here at seven, also!" he exclaimed impetuously.

"But why? I must go with him, Edgerton. You see that."

"Then I shall row alone."

"Why would you add to my unhappiness?" she pleaded.

"I shall be here at seven," he returned grimly; "while you and he take
your mornin