ally put in at Palm Beach he improvised: a telegram calling
him north at once. It was now a case of marry Althea or run, so, like
"Georgie, Porgie, Puddin', Pie," he made a hasty exit.

It was with a feeling of pleasant relaxation that he took the night
train north. He went to bed early, and slept like an escaped prisoner.
When the porter went through the car calling: "Telegram for Mr. Jerome
Paxton," he came to, and sat up as if he had been struck by a mallet. He
put his head out and called for the yellow envelope. Half awake, he
read:

"Is Isabelle with you?--Wallace Bryce."

He called for a blank and wired: "Certainly not." Then, as his
indignation at Wally had thoroughly wakened him, he began to dress. What
did Bryce mean by that ridiculous wire? Why in the name of mercy should
that limb of Satan be with him? He supposed she was up to some of her
tricks. He opened the curtains of his berth to make for the dressing
room, when the curtains of the lower opposite were parted.

"What did you tell Wally, Jerry?" asked the Cricket, grinning.

CHAPTER VIII

Jerry stood a second in the aisle, speechless, and stared at the
Cricket.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded finally.

"I'm going north with you. I told you I would."

"Get up and get your clothes on this minute," he ordered peremptorily.

"Not on your life, Jerry dear. I always lie abed late," she retorted,
closing the curtains.

His first impulse was to jerk them apart, and set the rebellious imp
upon her feet, but second thought convinced him that public opinion
would be against that move. He hurried off to send another wire to
Wally, phrased thus:

"Just discovered Isabelle on train. What shall I do with her?"

Then he made an agitated toilet and went back to his seat. The car was
in that unspeakable state of vile air and half-dressed strangers which
makes Pullman cars such a horror in the early morning. Jerry decided he
could not bear it.

"Isabelle," he said, addressing the curtains, "get up and come to
breakfast."

"I don't care for any breakfast, thank you, Jerry," she answered
sweetly.

He went to the diner with a sigh of relief. He tried to contemplate his
situation calmly. The Bryce child had certainly scored. No amount of
protesting would ever convince Althea Morton of his innocence, because
she had warned him against Isabelle's wiles. He could count on Mrs.
Abercrombie Brendon's championing. Certainly he had disappointed her