it, aren't we?" demanded Shirley, as he placed the record
in the grip. "Don't you see the wisdom of knowing who may systematically
blackmail you after secrecy is obtained. This is a matter of the future,
as well as the present."

"But I don't want to lose my own life--I am young, with life before me,
and I want to let well enough alone, after these threats."

"I am afraid that you have a yellow streak." His lip curled as he
studied the pallid features of the heir to the Van Cleft millions.
Fearless himself, he could still understand the tremors of this
care-free butterfly: yet he knew he must crush the dangerous thoughts
which were developing. "If you mistrust me, hustle for yourself. You
have the death-certificate, the services will be over in a few days, and
then you will have enough money to live on your father's yacht or terra
firma for the rest of your life, in the China Sea, or India, as far away
from Broadway chorus girls as you want. That might be safe."

He gazed out of the window, toward the twinkling lights far away across
the East River. His sarcasm made Van Cleft wince as though from a whip
lash. The latter mopped his forehead and tried to steady his voice, as
he replied with all humility.

"You're a brick, and I don't mean to offend you. Today has been
terrible, you know: this tornado has swept me from my moorings. I don't
know where to turn."

"I am thoughtless," and Shirley's warm hand grasped the flaccid fingers
of the young man. "Forgive me for letting my interest run away with my
sympathies. I'm thinking of the future, more than mere protection from
newspaper scandal. This crime is so ingenious that I believe it has a
more powerful motive than mere robbery. You are now at the head of a
great house of finance and society. You must guard your mother and your
sister, and those yet to come. A deadly snake is writhing its slimy
trail somewhere: here--there--'round about us! Who knows where it will
strike next? Who knows how far that blow may reach--even unto China, or
wherever you run?"

He hesitated, studying the effect upon Van Cleft, who dropped limply
into a chair, his eyes dark with terror. The psychological ruse had won.
Selfish cowardice, which temporarily threatened to ruin his campaign,
now gave way to the instinct of a fighting defense.

"There, Van Cleft, it is ghastly. You have the significance now: we must
scotch the snake. That girl is over at the Holland Agency, and we should
see he