I saw. I want to
forget.... Maybe in twenty-four hours I'll believe it was a
nightmare."

"Humph! Well, I'm here to tell you what _I've_ seen wasn't any
nightmare," returned Pepper, with his shrewd gaze on Lane. "But we
needn't discuss that. If it made an old bum like me sick what might
not it do to a sensitive high-minded chap like you.... The question is
are you going to bust up that club."

"I am," declared Lane, grimly.

"Good! But how--when? What's the sense in lettin' them carry on any
longer?"

"I had to fight myself last night to keep from breaking in on them....
But I want to catch this fellow Swann with my sister. She wasn't
there."

"Lane, don't wait for that," returned Pepper, nervously. "You might
never catch him.... And if you did...."

His little plump well-cared-for hand shook as he extended it.

"I don't know what I'll do.... I don't know," said Lane, darkly, more
to himself.

"Lane, this--this worry will knock you out."

"No matter. All I ask is to stand up--long enough--to do what I want
to do."

"Go home and get some breakfast--and take care of yourself," replied
Pepper, gruffly. "Damn me if I'm not sorry I gave Swann's secret
away."

"Oh no, you're not," said Lane, quickly. "But I'd have found it out by
this time."

Pepper paced up and down the faded carpet, his hands behind his back,
a plodding, burdened figure.

"Have you any--doubts left?" he asked, suddenly.

"Doubts!" echoed Lane, vaguely.

"Yes--doubts. You're like most of these mothers and fathers.... You
couldn't believe. You made excuses for the smoke--saying there was no
fire."

"No more doubts, alas!... My God! I _saw_," burst out Lane.

"All right. Buck up now. It's something to be sure.... You've overdone
your strength. You look...."

"Pepper, do me a favor," interposed Lane, as he made for the door.
"Get me an axe and leave it here in your rooms. In case I want to
break in on those fellows some time--quick--I'll have it ready."

"Sure, I'll get you anything. And I want to be around when you butt in
on them."

"That's up to you. Good-bye now. I'll run in to-morrow if I'm up to
it."

Lane went home, his mind in a tumult. His mother had just discovered
that he had not slept in his bed, and was greatly relieved to see him.
Breakfast was waiting, and after partaking of it Lane felt somewhat
better. His mother appeared more than usually sombre. Worry was
killing her.

"Lorna did not sleep at home last night