y where he is, unless you want him hurt."

"This storm will be a good thing for us," he mentioned to Doris, when
they had returned to the up-stairs sitting-room. "It will be dark soon
after four, and the snow will cover our footsteps. But I'm inclined to
think," he added, reflectively, "that before we start I'd better go out
and truss up those two birds in the grounds."

She showed an immediate apprehension.

"No, no! you mustn't think of that!" she cried. "Promise me you won't."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"As you wish, of course. But if they interfere when we're getting
started, surely you'll let me rock them to sleep, won't you?"

"I--I don't know. Something may happen! Oh, I wish you hadn't come!" She
was clearly in a panic, a genuine one. It seemed equally clear that her
nerves, under the recent strain put upon them, were in a bad way. All
this was Shaw's work, and as he realized it Laurie's expression changed
so suddenly that the girl cried out: "What is it? What's the matter?"

He answered, still under the influence of the feeling that had shaken
him.

"I was just thinking of our friend Bertie and of a little bill he's
running up against the future. Sooner or later, and I rather think it
will be sooner, Bertie's going to pay that bill."

She did not move, but gave him a look that made him thoughtful. It was
an odd, sidelong look, frightened, yet watchful. He remembered that once
or twice before she had given him such a look. More than anything else
that had happened, this glance chilled him. It was not thus that the
woman he loved should look at him.

Suddenly he heard her gasp, and the next instant the silence of the room
was broken by another voice, a voice of concentrated rage with a snarl
running through it.

"So you're here, are you?" it jerked. "By God, I'm sick of you and of
your damned interference!"

He turned. Shaw was standing just inside the door. But he was not the
sleek, familiar, torpid figure of recent encounter. He seemed mad clean
through, fighting mad. His jaws were set; his sleek head and heavy
shoulders were thrust forward as if he were ready to spring, and his
protuberant eyes had lost their haze and held a new and unpleasant
light.

But, angry though he appeared, Herbert Ransome Shaw was taking no
chances in this encounter with his undesired guest. Behind him shone the
now smug countenance of the blond secretary, and on each side he was
flanked by another man. Powerful fell