ns of
defence. He knew that he was to be assailed by every paper in New York.
They would tear him to shreds.

Wade was at the pier. He waited patiently in the background while the
returned voyager dealt with the reporters, appearing abruptly at Braden's
elbow as he was giving his keys to the inspector.

"Good morning, sir," said Wade, in what must be recorded as a confidential
tone. He might have been repeating the salutation of yesterday morning for
all that his manner betrayed.

"Hello, Wade! Glad to see you." Braden shook hands with the man. "How is
my grandfather?"

"Better, sir," said the other, meaning that his master was more
comfortable than he had been during the night.

Wade was not as much of an optimist as his reply would seem to indicate.
It was his habit to hold bad news in reserve as long as possible,
doubtless for the satisfaction it gave him to dribble it out sparingly. He
had found it to his advantage to break all sorts of news hesitatingly to
his master, for he was never by way of knowing what Mr. Thorpe would
regard as bad news. For example, early in his career as valet, he had
rushed into Mr. Thorpe's presence with what he had every reason to believe
would be good news. He had been sent over to the home of Mr. Thorpe's son
for an important bit of information, and he supplied it by almost shouting
as he burst into the library: "It's a fine boy, sir,--a splendid ten-
pounder, sir." But Mr. Thorpe, instead of accepting the good news gladly,
spoiled everything by anxiously inquiring, "And how is the poor little
mother getting along?"--a question which caused Wade grave annoyance, for
he had to reply: "I'm sorry, sir, but she's not expected to live the hour
out."

All of which goes to show that Mr. Thorpe never regarded any news as good
without first satisfying himself that it wasn't bad.

"I have the automobile outside, sir," went on Wade, "and I am to look
after your luggage."

"Thank you, Wade. If you'll just grab these bags and help the porter out
to the car with them, I'll be greatly obliged. And then you may drop me at
the Wolcott. I shall stop there for a few days, until I get my bearings."

Wade coughed insinuatingly. "Beg pardon, sir, but I was to fetch you
straight home."

"Do you mean to my grandfather's?" demanded the young man sharply.

"Yes, sir. Those were the orders."

"Orders to be disobeyed, I fear, Wade," said Braden darkly. "I am not
going to Mr. Thorpe's house."

"I