dn't sleep well,
that's all. Do sit down. I've so many things to say, so much to ask,
I don't know where to begin. It was such a surprise, your coming like
this! And you're looking so well. You got my letter, of course?"

Glen sat down, and Beth sat near, her hand upon his arm. They had been
more like companions than mere half-brother and sister, all their
lives. The bond of affection between them was exceptionally developed.

"I came up on account of your letter," he said. "Either my perceptive
faculties are on the blink or there's something decaying in Denmark.
It's you for the Goddess of Liberty enlightening the unenlightened
savage. I'm from Missouri and I want you to start the ticker on the
hum."

"You know what Searle has done?" she said. "How much do you know of
what has happened?"

"Nothing. I've been retired on half knowledge for a month," said Glen.
"I haven't been treated right. I'm here to register a roar. Nobody
tells me you're in the State till I read that account in the paper. I
dope it out to Searle that I am bumping the bumps, and there is nothing
doing. He shows up at last and hands me a species of coma and leaves
me with twenty-five dollars! That's what I get. What I've been doing
is a longer story. I apologize for not having seen your friend who
brought the letter, but it's up to you to apologize for a bum epistle
to the Prodigal."

"Wait a minute, Glen--wait a minute, please; don't go so fast," she
said, gripping tighter to his arm. "I must get this all as straight
and plain as possible. You don't mean to say that Searle really
drugged you, or something like that--what for?"

"I want to know," said Glen. "What's the answer? Perhaps he preferred
I should not behold your Sir Cowboy Gallahad."

"There is something going on," she said, "something dark and horrible.
How did you happen to show Mr. Van Buren--let him see the last page of
my letter?"

"I didn't let him see anything," said Glen. "I was dopy, I tell you.
I didn't even see the letter myself. Searle sat on the bed and read it
aloud--and lit his cigar with part of it later."

"My letter?" she said, rising abruptly, and immediately sitting down
again. "You never saw---- Searle got it--read it! Oh, the
shamelessness! Then--it must have been Searle who made the
mistake--let Mr. Van Buren see it--see what I wrote--see---- What did
he read you--read about Van--Mr. Van Buren--almost the last thing in
the letter