Laura Hegan's uncle, whom the
Major had pointed out to him in the dining-room of the Millionaires'
Club! Old Henry S. Grimes, who was really only sixty, but looked
eighty; and who owned slum tenements, and evicted more people in a
month than could be crowded into the club-house!

Montague gave no sign, but sat holding the man in his arms. A little
trickle of blood came from under the handkerchief and ran down his
cheek; Montague felt him tremble as he touched this with his ringer.

"Is it much of a cut?" he asked.

"Not much," said Montague; "two or three stitches, perhaps."

"Send for my family physician," the other added. "If I should faint, or
anything, you'll find his name in my card-case. What's that?"

There was the sound of voices down the road. "Hello!"' Montague
shouted; and a moment later two men in automobile costume came running
toward him. They stopped, staring in dismay at the sight which
confronted them.

At Montague's suggestion they made haste to find a log by means of
which they lifted the auto sufficiently to drag out the body of the
chauffeur. Montague saw that it was quite cold.

He went back to old Grimes. "Where do you wish to go?" he asked.

The other hesitated. "I was bound for the Harrisons'--" he said.

"The Leslie Harrisons?" asked Montague. (They were people he had met at
the Devons'.)

The other noticed his look of recognition. "Do you know them?" he asked.

"I do," said Montague.

"It isn't far," said the old man. "Perhaps I had best go there."--And
then he hesitated for a moment; and catching Montague by the arm, and
pulling him toward him, whispered, "Tell me--you-you won't tell--"

Montague, comprehending what he meant, answered, "It will be between
us." At the same time he felt a new thrill of revulsion for this most
miserable old creature.

They lifted him into the car; and because they delayed long enough to
lay a blanket over the body of the chauffeur, he asked peevishly why
they did not start. During the ten or fifteen minutes' trip he sat
clinging to Montague, shuddering with fright every time they rounded a
turn in the road.

They reached the Harrisons' place; and the footman who opened the door
was startled out of his studied impassivity by the sight of a big
bundle of bearskin in Montague's arms. "Send for Mrs. Harrison," said
Montague, and laid the bundle upon a divan in the hall. "Get a doctor
as quickly as you can," he added to a second attendant.

Mrs. H