strange; there was a sort of white
rope hanging from Mrs. Doyle's window.

He stopped Annabelle and stared. Then he drew up to the curb and got out
of the car. He was rather uneasy when he opened the gate and started up
the walk, but there was no movement of life in the house. At the foot of
the steps he saw something, and almost stopped breathing. Behind a clump
of winter-bare shrubbery was what looked like a dark huddle of clothing.

It was incredible.

He parted the branches and saw Elinor Doyle lying there, conscious and
white with pain. Perhaps never in his life was Doctor Smalley to be so
rewarded as with the look in her eyes when she saw him.

"Why, Mrs. Doyle!" was all he could think to say.

"I have broken my other leg, doctor," she said, "the rope gave way."

"You come down that rope?"

"I tried to. I was a prisoner. Don't take me back to the house, doctor.
Don't take me back!"

"Of course I'll not take you back," he said, soothingly. "I'll carry you
out to my car. It may hurt, but try to be quiet. Can you get your arms
around my neck?"

She managed that, and he raised her slowly, but the pain must have been
frightful, for a moment later he felt her arms relax and knew that she
had fainted. He got to the car somehow, kicked the oranges into the
gutter, and placed her, collapsed, on the seat. It was only then that
he dared to look behind him, but the house, like the street, was without
signs of life. As he turned the next corner, however, he saw Doyle
getting off a streetcar, and probably never before had Annabelle made
such speed as she did for the next six blocks.

Hours later Elinor Cardew wakened in a quiet room with gray walls, and
with the sickening sweet odor of ether over everything. Instead of Olga
a quiet nurse sat by her bed, and standing by a window, in low-voiced
conversation, were two men. One she knew, the doctor. The other, a tall
young man with a slight limp as he came toward her, she had never seen
before. A friendly young man, thin, and grave of voice, who put a hand
over hers and said:

"You are not to worry about anything, Mrs. Doyle. You understand me,
don't you? Everything is all right. I am going now to get your people."

"My husband?"

"Your own people," he said. "I have already telephoned to your brother.
And the leg's fixed. Everything's as right as rain."

Elinor closed her eyes. She felt no pain and no curiosity. Only there
was something she had to do, and do quick