the wind-swept
street, at the dripping front of his home, at the dim light that burned
there.

"God, sir!" he said, turning on me with his teeth set like those of a
fighting animal. "What's all this to me? I love her! She's mine! She's
the most beautiful--the best woman in all the world!"

Margaret Murchie shivered.

After a moment Estabrook's hands were both clutching my sleeve.

"You'll stand by now?" he said, looking up into my face. "I can't ask
any one else. You can see that. You'll help? What shall we do?"

"Depend on me," I answered him. "We must be careful. Wait! Just let me
review these facts. The first move must be for us to send Margaret back
into the house. Do you suppose your wife knows she is out of it?"

"I don't believe so," said he. "I watched the window all the time we
were taking Margaret into this limousine. The curtains never moved."

"Good!" I cried. "Now, Miss Murchie, listen to what I say. How often
does your mistress call you during the day?"

"Every three or four hours, I think, sir."

"Very well. Take this umbrella and go back. Use Mr. Estabrook's key.
Enter as quietly as possible. Say nothing to any one. If your mistress
should allow more than five hours to go by without calling you, go to
her door and knock. If there is no answer, telephone my office. You
mustn't allow a second of delay. It will mean danger."

Estabrook listened to these instructions with staring eyes.

"You know something!" he cried. "Tell me!"

I shook my head, opened the door, and the old servant, getting out, went
waddling off across the street, her dress flapping in the wet wind.

"Come, Mr. Chauffeur!" I said to him. "You are to spend the night with
me. To-morrow--"

"To-morrow?"

"Exactly," said I brusquely.

"And what then?"

"To-morrow I shall search for truth lying hidden among blades of grass!"
said I. "In the mean time all the sleep I can pile into you may count
more than you know!"

I had spoken with a note of authority because each moment I feared that
he would become stubborn. I feared that, taking offense at my theories,
he would reject my services and plunge into some folly at the moment
when a most delicate balance between good and evil, life and death,
safety and danger, might be overthrown on the side of terrible calamity.
I was thankful when he once more showed himself tractable by climbing on
the driver's seat and turning our course homeward. It was the small
hours of morning that