t extent with her father? In spite of his logical interpretation
of it, Garth responded to the memory of her agitation. Had she, in
fact, been acting in the cellar? Had his peril finally shown her heart
the truth? The two most compelling issues of his own life, as well as
the inspector's career, depended on the reply, and he could hear
nothing. Nora and her father must have moved to one side, for their
voices entered the cellar in barely audible murmurs. Slim had handed the
bottle to George, and he moved now into the door well where he could
listen.

Garth's nerves tightened. Always George held the acid close to the
detective's bound and helpless body. Of course the inspector couldn't do
it.

Slim came slinking back. His whisper warmed the cold, damp air.

"I couldn't catch it all, but she's getting away with something."

The murmuring ceased, and through the wan light Nora glided,
wraith-like, into the doorway, and called to them softly across the
cellar:

"Slim! He hates me for making him, but he'll do what he can. He'll tell
the Harlem police and the towns along the Hudson that he's got you.
He'll try to cover himself with a planted getaway. You have an
automobile. Take it and leave by the Broadway bridge. You'll catch the
Montreal express at Tarrytown. You've plenty of time, and everything
will be arranged; but he can't keep the wool over the district
attorney's eyes forever. If you're not over the border to-morrow morning
it's no good. So catch that train."

"Come here, Nora," Slim sighed, "and let me thank you properly."

Her laugh was hard, more suggestive of forbidden tears than mirth.

"One hostage is enough. And, Jim, there's a condition for you. Father
won't budge unless you give him your word to go quietly. You have to
promise on your sacred oath not to make any effort to escape or to throw
Slim down."

"What's that for?" George asked suspiciously.

Her tone was contemptuous.

"Use your head, George. It would do father a lot of good to risk so much
for Jim if he took matters into his own hands and got the acid just the
same."

"Right!" Slim agreed. "You've plenty of common-sense, Nora, and it's
going to give us a chance."

"You promise, Jim?"

He fancied an element of command in her voice.

"I'll do what you wish, Nora," he answered. "I promise."

"Then good-by," she called, and her voice no longer held any command,
nor was it steady. "Good-by. If I only dared come over to you! God bring