had been shunted to await
their pleasure. He dressed hastily, his heart still aching with dread
and uncertainty.

As he faced himself in the mirror he noted his sunken eyes and ghastly
color, and Denning, entering behind him, noted it, too, with a quick
thrill of sympathy. He had come to accept as fact his fear, expressed in
the directors' room. Gard must be suffering from some deadly disease.

"You look all in, Gard," he said regretfully. "I'm sorry I had to drive
you so." He hesitated. "Has--have the doctors been giving you a scare
about yourself?"

Gard divined the other's version of his strange actions, and jumped at
an excuse that explained and covered much.

"Don't talk about it," he said gruffly. "You know it won't do to have
rumors about my health going round."

Denning took the remark as a tacit acquiescence. His face expressed
genuine sympathy and compassion.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly.

Gard looked up and frowned, yet the kindliness extended, though it was
for an imaginary reason, was grateful to him.

"Well, I can take all the extra sympathy anyone has just now," he
answered in a tone that carried conviction. "I've had a good deal to
struggle against recently--but I'm not whipped yet."

"Oh, you'll be all right," Denning encouraged. "You're a young man
still, and you've got the energy of ten young bucks. I'll back you to
win. Cheer up; you've got a hard day ahead." Gard nodded. How hard a day
his friend little guessed. "We'll go on to the hotel when you are ready.
Your first appointment is at nine thirty. Jim is making breakfast for us
here."

"All right," said Gard; "I'll join you in a minute. Go ahead and get
your coffee." Left alone, he hurriedly pocketed Mahr's jewelry, paused a
moment to grind the stone of the scarf pin from its setting--among the
cinders of the terminus the gem and its mangled mounting could both be
easily lost. His one desire now was to put himself in telephonic
communication with New York, but he did not dare to be too pressing.
However, once at the hotel, he made all arrangements to have a call
transferred, and opened connection with Brencherly. He was shaking with
nervousness. "Any news?" he asked.

"None, Mr. Gard, I'm sorry," the detective's voice sounded over the
wire, "except that I've followed your instructions with regard to the
young lady. I've not left the 'phone, sir; slept right here in your
armchair. The hospitals have been questioned, and there is nothin