it they were interrupted before Miss Deringham could
answer, and Alton limped down the stairway very grim in face, while
Thorne appeared sympathetic when he overtook him. "That wound of yours
is troubling you?" he said.

"Yes," said Alton dryly; "I'm afraid it will. Now I was a trifle
confused when you helped me. Did I tell you how I got it?"

Thorne remembering Seaforth's story answered indifferently, "I
concluded it was an axe-cut."

He passed on, but Alton had quick perceptions, and made a little
gesture of contentment. "He is almost good enough, anyway," he said
wearily.

When all the guests had gone Deringham came upon his daughter alone.
"I noticed Mr. Alton was not effusive," he said.

"No," said the girl languidly, though there was a curious expression in
her eyes. "I do not remember that he told much beyond the fact that he
would be a cripple--all his life. He mentioned it twice."

CHAPTER XXVI

WITHOUT COUNTING THE COST

There had been a revival of speculation in industrial enterprise, and
it was unusually late at night when Miss Townshead rose wearily from
the table she had been busy at. Her eyes ached, her fingers and arms
were cramped, but that did not distress her greatly, for Townshead
needed many comforts, and she was earning what would have been
considered in England a liberal salary. It was very quiet in the room
at the top of the towering building, where, however, another young
woman, who as it happened was jealous of her companion's progress,
still sat writing, and a light blinked in the adjoining one across the
passage in which one of the heads of the firm would probably remain
most of the night. Trade is spasmodic in the West, and those who live
by it work with feverish activity when the tide is with them.

"You're through?" said Miss Holder. "Well, if you can wait ten minutes
I'll come along with you."

Nellie Townshead was not especially fond of her companion, but at that
hour the streets were lonely, and she sat down again when she had put
on her hat and jacket. While she waited a little bell began to ring,
and Miss Holder rose with an impatient exclamation.

"Get your pencil, Nellie," she said, as she took the telephonic
receiver down from the hook.

Miss Townshead took a sheet of paper from a case, and waited until her
companion spoke again. "Oh, yes, I'm here. A little late to worry
tired folks, isn't it? No. Mr. Hallam's away just now. Wire from
Somasco