diately was snoring
stertorously. Then Peter went through his pockets methodically, removing
an automatic pistol from his trousers, and examining all his papers
carefully by the light of the lamp-a hotel bill receipted, some letters
in a woman's hand, a few newspaper clippings bearing on the copper
market, a pocketbook containing bills of large denomination, some soiled
business cards of representatives of commercial houses, a notebook
containing addresses and small accounts, a pass book of a Philadelphia
bank, the address of which Peter noted. And that was all. Exhausting
every resource Peter went over the lining of his coat and vest, inch by
inch, even examined his underwear and his shoes and stockings. From the
skin out, Hawk Kennedy had now no secrets from Peter. The incriminating
confession was not on Hawk Kennedy's clothing.

At last Peter gave up the search and went out into the air, and lighted
his corncob pipe, puzzled at his failure. And yet, was it a failure
after all? Hawk had eluded every attempt to discuss his copy of the
confession. He had it "handy," he had said. A safe deposit box at the
Philadelphia bank of which Peter had made record would be handy, but
somehow Peter thought the chances were much against Kennedy's having put
it there. Men of his type usually carry everything they possess about
their persons. Peter remembered the ragged wallet of the _Bermudian_.
What if after all these years of hardship the paper had been worn so
that it was entirely illegible, or indeed that in Kennedy's many
wanderings it had been lost? Either of these theories was plausible, but
none provoked a decision. So after awhile Peter went indoors and opening
all the windows and doors to cleanse the air, sat in the big chair and
bundling himself in a blanket fell asleep.

CHAPTER XVIII

FACE TO FACE

We are told, alas, that at the highest moment of our expectations the
gods conspire to our undoing, and therefore that it is wise to take our
joys a little sadly, that we may not fall too far. But Beth, being
wholesome of mind and body and an optimist by choice, was not disposed
to question the completeness of her contentment or look for any dangers
which might threaten its continuance. And so when Peter went home
through the forest, she took her kerosene lamp to her room, there to
smile at her joyous countenance in the mirror and to assure herself that
never since the beginning of the world had there been a girl mo