to the Reverend John Whitley, enclosing a draft
to be forwarded to my sister in Glendale. Ever since he had served me
in the matter of returning Horace Barton's pocketbook, I had used him
as an intermediary for communicating, money-wise, with my people. He
had kept my secret, and was still keeping it.

The business affairs despatched, I crossed to the hotel to pack a
couple of suit-cases. All these preliminary preparations included no
word or line to Polly. I promised myself that I should write her when
it was all over. The thing to be done now and first was to drop out as
unostentatiously as possible. So ran the well-considered intention.
But when I went down to an early luncheon there was a telegram awaiting
me. It was from Agatha Geddis, and its wording was a curt mandate.
"Expect you on afternoon train. Don't fail."

During the half-hour which remained before train-time I fought the
wretched battle all over again, back and forth and up and down until my
brain reeled. At the end there was a shifty compromise. I was still
fully determined to drop out and go to California; at one stroke to
break with Polly Everton, and to put myself beyond the reach of the
woman with claws; but I weakly decided to go by way of Denver, taking
the night train west from the capital city over the Union Pacific. It
was a cowardly expedient, prompted wholly by the old, sharp-toothed
fear of consequences if I should fall to obey the wire summons, and I
knew it. I offer nothing in extenuation.

Agatha met me at the Denver Union Station, and at her suggestion we
went together to dinner at the Brown Palace. I did not know until
later why she had sent for me, or why she chose a particular table in
the dining-room, or why she went to pieces--figuratively
speaking--when, at the serving of the dessert, a note was handed her.

After that, I should have said that she had been drinking too much
champagne, if I had not known better.

"I want you to go with me up to my suite, Bertie; I've moved to the
hotel," she said hurriedly as we were leaving the dining-room.

If I went reluctantly it was not owing to any new-born squeamishness.
Heaven knows, I had been compromised with her too many times to care
greatly for anything that could be added now. In the sitting-room of
her private suite she punched the light switch and came to sit on the
arm of my chair. If she had put an arm around my neck, as she did now
and then when the wine was i