ight. And Essie Tisdale--her long upper
lip stretched in its mirthless smile--she would not have her feelings
this morning for a goodly sum.

The thought of Van Lennop accelerated her movements. She must get back
to the hotel before Crowheart was astir, for it might be her ill-luck to
bump into Van Lennop starting on one of his early morning rides. She
had no desire that he should see her in her present plight.

The closeness of the illy-ventilated hospital, with its odors of
disinfectants and sickness, nauseated her slightly as she opened the
door and stepped into the hallway. She frowned at the delirious
mutterings of a typhoid patient at the end of the corridor, for it
reminded her of a threatening epidemic in one of the camps. The sharper
moans of Billy Duncan, whose inflamed and swollen arm was wringing from
him ejaculations of pain, recalled vaguely to her mind something of the
incident of the night before.

Hearing her step, he called aloud as she passed the door--

"Won't somebody give me a drink? Please, please give me a drink! I'm
choked!"

"Nell will be up directly," she answered over her shoulder. There was no
time to lose, for the day was coming fast.

She lifted her torn and trailing flounce and pulled her cloak about her
bare shoulders as she opened the street door. The air felt good upon her
hot forehead and she breathed deep of it. The East was pink now, but the
town was still as silent as the grave save for the sound of escaping
steam from the early morning train. Happening to glance toward the
station, something in the appearance of a man carrying a suitcase across
the cinders attracted her attention and caused her to slacken her pace.
It looked like Ogden Van Lennop. It _was_ Ogden Van Lennop. He was
leaving! What did it mean? Her air-castles collapsed with a thud which
left her limp.

She kept on toward the hotel, but her step lagged. What did she care who
saw her now? Surely, she reassured herself, he was not leaving for
good--like this. It was certainly strange.

Entering the hotel through the unlocked office door she found the night
lamp still burning and Terriberry was nowhere about. That was curious,
for he was always up when any of his guests were leaving on the early
train.

Van Lennop's decision must have been sudden. What could be the
explanation?

There was a letter propped against the lamp on a table behind the office
desk and, as she surmised, it was addressed to Mr. Terribe