" said Monte.

Then he sat down in a chair, because his knees were beginning to feel
weak.

Marjory was back in a minute, and when she came in Monte was on his
feet again.

"It's at the door," she said.

At the sound of her voice Hamilton seemed to revive; but Monte had him
instantly by the arm.

"Come on," he ordered.

He shoved the boy ahead a little as he passed Marjory, and turning,
drew the revolver from his pocket. He did not dare take it with him,
because he knew that in five minutes he would be unable to use it.
Hamilton, on the other hand, might not be. He shoved it into her hand.

"Take it upstairs and hide it," he said. "Be careful with it."

"You're coming back here?" she asked quickly.

She thought his cheeks were very white.

"I can't tell," he answered. "But--don't worry."

He hurried Hamilton down the steps and pushed him into the car.

"To the Hotel Normandie," he ordered the driver, as he stumbled in
himself.

The bumping of the car hurt Monte's arm a good deal. In fact, with
every bump he felt as if Hamilton were prodding his shoulder with a
stiletto. Besides being unpleasant, this told rapidly on his strength,
and that was dangerous. Above all things, he must remain conscious.
Hamilton was quiet because he thought Monte still had the gun and was
still able to use it; but let him sway, and matters would be reversed.
So Monte gripped his jaws and bent his full energy to keeping control
of himself until they crossed the Seine. It seemed like a full day's
journey before he saw that the muddy waters were behind them. Then he
ordered the driver to stop.

Hamilton's shifty eyes looked up.

"Hamilton," said Monte, "have you got it clear yet that--that Miss
Stockton and I are engaged?"

Hamilton did not answer. His fingers were working nervously.

Monte, summoning all his strength, shook the fellow.

"Do you hear?" he called.

"Yes," muttered Hamilton.

"Then," said Monte, "I want you to get hold of the next point: that
from now on you're to let her alone. Get that?"

Hamilton's lips began to twitch.

"Because if you come around bothering her any more," explained Monte,
"I'll be there myself; and, believe me, you'll go out the door. And if
you try any more gun-play--the little fellows will nail you next time.
Sure as preaching, they'll nail you. That would be too bad for every
one--for you and for her."

"How for her?" demanded Hamilton hoarsely.

"The papers," an