l, then he saw her open the door. "Calling
the nurse," said he.

In a moment the nurse was in the room; and under the care of the two the
invalid was soon restored to consciousness. Then followed a period of
comforting, of patting pillows into shape, of cheerful assurance. Nora
then kissed the invalid and bid her good-bye. She left the room with the
nurse following her.

"Just came, evidently, to give her the news," said Bat to himself. "But
I wonder why the haste. It wasn't the kind of news that would give joy
or anything like that."

In a few moments he heard the front door close, and steps upon the walk.
These ceased after a moment; there was silence; and then, to his
amazement, Nora once more flitted through the darkness and came between
himself and the window.

"There is a reason for it," said Bat. "She's not doing all this out of
just idle curiosity. But what it leads to is a thing I don't----"

The thought was halted, unfinished, in his mind; for through the
darkness, quite close at hand, came a cautiously moving shape; and from
its direction, it was also seeking the shelter of the rose arbor. There
was a door in the far side of the latter, as Bat had noticed on the day
of Ashton-Kirk's investigation; he slipped quietly around and in at
this; and through the trellis work he watched what was proceeding
outside. The first glance showed him that Nora was now, also, moving
toward the arbor, and the thought of what might occur upon her meeting
with the prowler in the dark caused Scanlon's hand to go inquiringly to
the big revolver which he carried in the breast pocket of his coat, and
to shift it to a place where it would be more convenient.

But, though he strained his eyes to catch some indications of the
shadowy figure he had seen only a moment or two before, he could not do
so; it had vanished. This did not add anything to the big athlete's
quietude of mind; for the footsteps of Nora, dulled by springy sod, were
now close at hand.

The girl reached the arbor and took up the position which Bat had lately
occupied; and he knew that she had settled herself for a vigil--to watch
all that passed in the sitting-room of the Burton house. Naturally, the
eyes of the big man also went in that direction once more.

The nurse had returned to the room and was bending over the invalid, a
glass in her hand. The girl lay motionless, her face turned upward and
her thin hands pathetically folded. The nurse, after she had s