essed the spring, and with swimming
eyes looked at what the shelves revealed. "Dorothy," he called, and his
voice was brittle as thin glass, "take a pencil and make a list as I
dictate: One package of government bonds; a sheaf of bills, marked
$2,000; two small boxes, wrapped and sealed; three large envelopes,
sealed; two vouchers pinned together. Have you got that? I'll take
possession for the present. Make a copy of that list for me." He snapped
fast the inner door, and turned as he thrust the last of the packets
into an inner pocket. "Now, thank you, my dear; and how about the
valuables?"

"There's nothing missing," said Dorothy, handing him a written slip,
"except things I know mother took with her. So robbery wasn't the
motive. I think you must be right. It's some crank. But, oh, if you only
knew how afraid I am to stay here! I'm afraid of my own shadow; I'm
afraid of the clock chimes; when the telephone rings I'm in a panic.
Don't you think I could go away somewhere, with Tante Lydia--just go
away?"

Gard grasped at the suggestion. He could be sure that she would be
beyond the reach of Mahr and his poisonous vengeance until he had time
to crush him once and for all.

"Yes," he nodded, "you should go away. This crank may be dangerous. We
know he is cunning. You should go with your chaperon--say nothing about
where to anyone, not to a soul, mind; not to the servants here, not even
to Teddy Mahr. Just run down incognito to Atlantic City or Lakewood, or
better still, to some little place where you are not known. Write your
polite little notes, and say your first season has been too strenuous,
and run away. When can you go? To-night? To-morrow morning?"

"Yes, I could be ready to-night; but what shall we say to Tante Lydia?"

"Half the truth," he answered. "I'll take the responsibility. I'll tell
her I've been informed by my private people that an anonymous person has
been threatening you; that they are trying to locate him; and that as he
is known to be dangerous, I've advised your leaving at once and quietly.
I'll tell her a few of my experiences in that line, that will make her
believe that 'discretion is the better part of valor.'" He laughed
bitterly. "The kind attentions I've had in the way of infernal machines
and threats by telephone and letter. And I see only a few, you know.
What my secretaries stop and the police get on to besides would exhaust
one. It's the penalty of the limelight, my dear. But don't