came in.

"You? Why should he phone for you?" Bowman wheeled on him at last. "I
was the man's physician, as well as his close friend. Everybody knows
you weren't on good terms with him. Gad! You wouldn't be here in this
house to-night, if he were alive."

In the sort of silence that comes when some one's been suddenly struck
in the face, Worth crossed to Edwards and laid an arm along his
shoulders.

"I've asked Jim to stay in my place, here, in my house, while I'm away
over Monday--and he can do as he likes about whom he chooses to have
around."

Bowman gradually got to his feet, his face a study.

"I see," he said. "Then I'll not trespass on your time any longer. I
felt obliged to offer my services ... patients of mine ... for years ...
in affliction ..." a gleam of anger came into his fishy eyes. "I've been
met with damned insolence.... Claiming of the house before your father's
decently in his grave." He jerked fully erect. "Leave your affairs in
the hands of that degenerate. If he doesn't do you dirt, you'll be the
first he's let off! Come, Miss Barbara," to the girl who sat beside me,
looking on mutely observant.

"Thank you, doctor." She answered him as tranquilly as though no voice
had been raised in anger in that room. "I think I'll stay a little
longer. Jim will take me home."

The doctor glared and stalked out. To the last I think he was expecting
some one to stop him and apologize. I suppose this was what Worth
described naively as "antagonizing people without intending to." Well,
it might not be judicious; I certainly was glad the doctor was so sure
of the time at which his friend Gilbert had met death; yet I couldn't
but enjoy seeing him get his. As soon as the man's back was turned,
Edwards beckoned Barbara to the window. Worth and I left them talking
together there in low tones, he to get something he wanted from a case
in the hall, where he called me to the phone, saying long distance
wanted me. While I was waiting for my connection (Central, as usual,
having gotten me, now couldn't get the other party) the two came from
the living room and Barbara said "Good night" to us in passing.

"Those two seem to have something on hand," I commented as they went
out. "The little girl gave Bowman one for himself--in the nicest
possible way. Don't wonder Edwards likes her for it."

"Poor Laura Bowman! Her friends take turns giving that bloodless lizard
she's tied to, one for himself any time they can," Wo