ith a low sibilant exclamation.

"Not at all," said Armitage, and without further words he drew back a
few feet and started swiftly for the fissure. Anne, who had not
intended that the incident should thus get away from her, acted upon
flashing instinct, before the situation could formulate itself in her
mind. She sprang at Armitage as he passed her, her hands tightly
clasping about his neck, and pulled him backward with all her strength.
Armitage half stumbling, stopped, and the girl, releasing her hands,
stepped back with a sob of nervous anger.

"You--you--oh, you idiot!" she exclaimed. "How dare you frighten me
so! Now--go back to the car!"

"I did not mean to frighten you, Miss Wellington," he replied, not
altogether in the mild, impersonal tone of a servant. "It was a
perfectly easy jump. I thought you--"

"Go to your car, please," interrupted the girl sternly.

As for Koltsoff, rankling with the knowledge that if he had taken her
at her word and essayed to make the leap, she would have prevented him
as she had her chauffeur, his mood was no enviable one. Lost
opportunities of any sort are not conducive to mental equanimity. He
maintained extreme taciturnity throughout the remainder of the drive
and Miss Wellington, whose thoughts seemed also absorbing, made no
attempt to restore his ardent spirits. When they entered the
Wellington driveway, she glanced at Armitage's well-set back and
shoulders and smiled.

"McCall," she said, as she stood on the veranda, "I want you to go to
Mrs. Van Valkenberg's--where you were this morning--and bring her here.
You may have to wait."

CHAPTER XIV

UNDERGROUND WIRES

Armitage was not obliged to wait, however. A tall, well-built young
woman, heavily veiled, came down the winding path as he shut off power.
When he leaned around to open the door of the tonneau, she threw back her
veil and he caught sight of a full, dark, handsome face and eyes filled
with a curious light. He slammed the door and turned quickly to the
wheel.

"What is your name, my man?" The deep alto voice contained a note of
mirth.

"McCall," replied Armitage gruffly, jerking his head a bit side-wise and
then jerking it quickly back again.

"You are--not a very good driver," came the voice. "But I should like to
employ you. . . . Would you consider leaving Miss Wellington?"

Armitage shook his head grouchily.

"For a consideration? Come, I won't use you as a chauffeur. I wan