t girl chatter, and realized that it had
never occurred to her to light a lamp--then for the first time--I
knew--I knew."

Again she stopped, and Mr. Magee, looking at her, felt what he had never
experienced before--a thrill at a woman's near presence.

"That's what I ask of a writer," she said, "that he make me feel for his
people as I felt for that girl that night. Am I asking too much? It need
not be for one who is enmeshed in tragedy--it may be for one whose heart
is as glad as a May morning. But he must make me feel. And he can't do
that if he doesn't feel himself, can he?"

William Hallowell Magee actually hung his head.

"He can't," he confessed softly. "You're quite right. I like you
immensely--more than I can say. And even if you feel you can't trust me,
I want you to know that I'm on your side in whatever happens at Baldpate
Inn. You have only to ask, and I am your ally."

"Thank you," she answered. "I may be very glad to ask. I shall
remember." She rose and moved toward the stairs. "We had better disperse
now. The rocking-chair fleet will get us if we don't watch out." Her
small slipper was on the first step of the stair, when they heard a door
slammed shut, and the sound of steps on the bare floor of the
dining-room. Then a husky voice called "Bland".

Mr. Magee felt his hand grasped by a much smaller one, and before he
knew it he had been hurried to the shadows of the landing. "The fifth
key," whispered a scared little voice in his ear. And then he felt the
faint brushing of finger-tips across his lips. A mad desire seized him
to grasp those fingers and hold them on the lips they had scarcely
touched. But the impulse was lost in the thrill of seeing the
dining-room door thrown open and a great bulk of a man cross the floor
of the office and stand beside Bland's chair. At his side was a thin
waif who had not unjustly been termed the mayor of Reuton's shadow.

"Asleep," bellowed the big man. "How's this for a watch-dog, Lou?"

"Right on the job, ain't he?" sneered the thin one.

Mr. Bland started suddenly from slumber, and looked up into the eyes of
the newcomers.

"Hello, Cargan," he said. "Hello, Lou. For the love of heaven, don't
shout so. The place is full of them."

"Full of what?" asked the mayor.

"Of spotters, maybe--I don't know what they are. There's an old
high-brow and a fresh young guy, and two women."

"People," gasped the mayor. "People--here?"

"Sure."

"You're asleep, Bland