sensible. The thieves made their
escape. The police have several clues. Mr. Brent is hovering
between life and death, with the chances against him."

Susan, leaning with all her weight against the door jamb, saw
Palmer's white face going away from her, heard his agitated
voice less and less distinctly--fell to the floor with a crash
and knew no more.

When she came to, she was lying in the bed; about it or near
it were Palmer, her maid, his valet, Clelie, several
strangers. Her glance turned to Freddie's face and she looked
into his eyes amid a profound silence. She saw in those eyes
only intense anxiety and intense affection. He said:

"What is it, dear? You are all right. Only a fainting spell."

"Was that true?" she asked.

"Yes, but he'll pull through. The surgeons save everybody
nowadays. I've cabled his secretary, Garvey, and to my
lawyers. We'll have an answer soon. I've sent out for all
the papers."

"She must not be agitated," interposed a medical looking man
with stupid brown eyes and a thin brown beard sparsely veiling
his gaunt and pasty face.

"Nonsense!" said Palmer, curtly. "My wife is not an invalid.
Our closest friend has been almost killed. To keep the news
from her would be to make her sick."

Susan closed her eyes. "Thank you," she murmured. "Send them
all away--except Clelie. . . . Leave me alone with Clelie."

Pushing the others before him, Freddie moved toward the door
into the hall. At the threshold he paused to say:

"Shall I bring the papers when they come?"

She hesitated. "No," she answered without opening her eyes.
"Send them in. I want to read them, myself."

She lay quiet, Clelie stroking her brow. From time to time a
shudder passed over her. When, in answer to a knock, Clelie
took in the bundle of newspapers, she sat up in bed and read
the meager dispatches. The long accounts were made long by
the addition of facts about Brent's life. The short accounts
added nothing to what she already knew. When she had read
all, she sank back among the pillows and closed her eyes. A
long, long silence in the room. Then a soft knock at the
door. Clelie left the bedside to answer it, returned to say:

"Mr. Freddie wishes to come in with a telegram."

Susan started up wildly. Her eyes were wide and staring--a
look of horror. "No--no!" she cried. Then she compressed her
lips, passed her hand slowly over her brow. "Yes--tell him to
come in."

Her gaze