to have the
roadway to themselves.

She lost sight of him as he turned in at the avenue, but continued to
press on. That there had been a struggle between the brothers she could
guess, though she let the matter pass without further mental comment.
The fact that filled her consciousness was that in some strange way Thor
was back--wild-eyed and bleeding. Whatever had happened, he would
probably need her now, accepting the substitute for love.

Half-way up the avenue she saw that both the inner and outer doors of
the house were open and that the electricity from the hall lit up the
porch and steps. Thor was still running, but at the foot of the steps he
surprised her by coming to a halt instead of leaping up them, two or
three at a time. Stopping abruptly, silhouetted in the spot of light, he
threw his hands above his head as if he had been shot and were
staggering backward. He hadn't been shot, because there was no sound. He
hadn't even been wounded, because as she sped toward him she could see
him stoop--spring away--return--and stoop again. She was about to call
out, "Oh, Thor, what is it?" when, on hearing her footsteps, he bounded
to his feet and ran in her direction. "Go back!" he cried, hoarsely. "Go
back! Go back, Lois, go back!"

But she hurried on. If there was trouble or danger she must be by his
side.

He wheeled around again to that over which he had been stooping, but
with a repetition of the movement of flinging up the hands. After that
he seemed to crawl away--to crawl away till he reached the steps, where,
pulling himself half-way up, he lay with his face hidden. The thing he
had seen was something fatal and final, leaving no more to be done. The
thought came to her that if there was no more for him to do, it was
probable that her work was just beginning and that she must keep herself
calm and strong.

She came to him at last and bent over his long, prostrate form. It was
racked and heaving. The sobbing was of a kind she had never heard
before--the violent, convulsive sobbing of a man.

Raising herself, she looked about for the cause of this grief, for a
second or two seeing nothing. The respite enabled her to renew her sense
of the necessity laid upon her to be helpful. Whatever was there, she
must neither flinch nor cry out. She must take up the task where he had
been forced to lay it down.

It was a bare arm from which the shirt-sleeve had been torn away that
caught her attention first--a bare