ble toward him.

Millar, too, leaned forward, his face almost touching her white
shoulder, his hand touching hers as it rested on the table. It was thus
Karl saw them with one of those furtive glances, and the glist froze the
pretty speech he was trying to make to Elsa. The girl, seeing his look,
jumped to her feet, exclaiming angrily, and so that all three heard her:

"Take me to the ballroom immediately. I have promised the next dance."

Karl also, his face white with passion, had jumped to his feet. Elsa,
almost in tears, stamped her foot at him.

"Why do you stand there? Take me away. Aren't you coming?"

She turned and started to the door, Karl following. They passed Millar
and Olga, still seated at the table.

"I thought you were in the ballroom," Olga said sweetly to the girl.

"Oh, did you?"

"I hope you are enjoying the dancing."

"I hate dancing, but I shall dance every dance to-night," Elsa cried
passionately.

She looked angrily at Olga, who arose and moved toward her. Karl stepped
between them, giving his arm to Elsa. The two walked together, leaving
Olga looking helplessly into the smiling face of Millar.

Olga looked angrily at the stormy little Elsa as she floundered from the
room into the ballroom, followed by the enraged Karl. Millar smiled more
cynically than ever as he saw the play of emotion on Olga's face. His
ruse had worked admirably. He had at least beaten down Olga's will, but
he had yet to make certain of Karl.

"How dared she speak like that?" Olga demanded, turning to her cynic
Millar. "Karl must love her."

"Let us not reach conclusions so hastily," Millar said. "First let me
tell you how Karl answered me this afternoon."

"When you made the wager?" Olga asked quickly.

"Yes; when I promised to make you fall in love with me."

"What did he say?"

"He tried to kill me," Millar answered slowly.

The color rushed to Olga's cheeks. Her eyes sparkled as she turned them
toward her tempter. It was delight she felt; mad, unreasoning joy that
Karl's love for her had prompted him to kill another who threatened to
win her from him. Still smiling, Millar went on, taking the shining
revolver from his pocket and showing it to her:

"With his own hands, dear lady, Karl tried to kill me with this little
pistol. I took it away from him."

"He tried to shoot you?" Olga exclaimed.

"Yes; and he would have done so. This is nicely loaded for six."

Almost to herself Olga whispered her