ared to have realized this;
for now the voices in the woods ceased and the men began to straggle
back toward the cars. A party was sent on foot across the ravine,
evidently to guard the road beyond. The rest began to clamber into the
cars. She backed her car away from the one in front of it and started
home.

She had gone only a short distance when the cars again passed her,
traveling at high speed. She began then to pass individual men left by
those in the cars to watch the road. At the first large house she saw
one of the cars again, standing empty. She passed it without stopping.
A mile farther, a little group of men carrying guns stopped her,
recognized her and let her pass. They had been called out, they told
her, by Mr. Avery over the telephone to watch the roads for Eaton; they
had Eaton's description; members of the local police were to take
charge of them and direct them. She comprehended that Avery was
surrounding the vacant acreage where Eaton had taken refuge to be
certain that Eaton did not get away until daylight came and a search
for him was possible.

Lights gleamed at her across the broad lawns of the houses near her
father's great house as she approached it; at the sound of her car,
people came to the windows and looked out. She understood that news of
the murder at Basil Santoine's had aroused the neighbors and brought
them from their beds.

As she left her motor on the drive beside the house--for to-night no
one came from the garages to take it--the little clock upon its dash
marked half past two.

CHAPTER XX

WAITING

Harriet went into the house and toward her own rooms; a maid met and
stopped her on the stairs.

"Mr. Santoine sent word that he wishes to see you as soon as you came
in, Miss Santoine."

Harriet went on toward her father's room, without stopping at her
own--wet with the drive through the damp night and shivering now with
its chill. Her father's voice answered her knock with a summons to
come in. As she obeyed, pushing the doors open, he dismissed the
nurse; the girl, passing Harriet as she went out, returned Harriet's
questioning look with a reassuring nod; Basil Santoine had endured the
shock and excitement of the night better than could have been expected;
he was quite himself.

As Harriet went toward the bed, her father's blind eyes turned toward
her; he put out his hand and touched her, seeming startled to find her
still in the robe she had worn an h