tal telephone in order to
induce--"

"Yes, yes; I know what you're going to say. Do you really think she
would go as far as that, Andrew?" Mrs. McKaye was very pale.

"Beware the anger of a woman scorned," he quoted.

"In the event that she should, Mr. Daney, we should have no other
alternative but to deny it." Elizabeth was speaking. She still wore
her impish glacial smile. "As a usual thing, we are opposed to fibbing
on the high moral ground that it is not a lady's pastime, but in view
of the perfectly appalling results that would follow our failure to
fib in this particular case, I'm afraid we'll have to join hands, Mr.
Daney, and prove Nan Brent a liar. Naturally, we count on your help.
As a result of his conversation with you, father believes you did the
telephoning."

"I told him half the truth, but no lie. I have never lied to him, Miss
Elizabeth, and I never shall. When Hector McKaye asks me for the
truth, he'll get it." In Mr. Daney's voice there was a growl that
spoke of slow, quiet fury at the realization that this cool young
woman should presume to dictate to him.

"I think you'll change your mind, Mr. Daney. You'll not refuse the
hurdle when you come to it. As for this wanton Brent girl, tell her
that we will think her proposition over and that she may look for a
call from us. We do not care how long she looks, do we mother?" And
she laughed her gay, impish laugh. "In the meantime, Mr. Daney, we
will do our best to spare ourselves and you the ignominy of that fib.
The doctors will order Donald away for a complete rest for six months,
and dad will go with him. When they're gone that Brent house on the
Sawdust Pile is going to catch fire--accidently, mysteriously. The man
who scuttled the Brent's motor-boat surely will not scruple at such a
simple matter as burning the Brent shanty. Come, mother. Jane, for
goodness' sake, do buck up! Good-by, dear Mr. Daney."

He stared at her admiringly. In Elizabeth, he discerned, for the first
time, more than a modicum of her father's resolute personality; he saw
clearly that she dominated her mother and Jane and, like The Laird,
would carry her objective, once she decided upon it, regardless of
consequences.

"Good-morning, ladies. I shall repeat your message--verbatim, Miss
Elizabeth," he assured the departing trio.

And that night he did so.

"They neglected to inform you how much time they would require to
think it over, did they not?" Nan interrogated mild