ical watchfulness persisted. A clicking sound swung
him back to the house. The front door had been opened, and in the black
frame of the doorway, as he looked, Katherine and Graham appeared, and he
knew the resolution of his last doubt was at hand.

Katherine had thrown a cloak over her graceful figure. Her sunny hair
strayed in the wind, but her face, while it had lost nothing of its
beauty, projected even at this distance a sense of weariness, of anxiety,
of utter fear.

Bobby was grateful for Graham's presence. It was like the man to assume
his responsibilities, to sacrifice himself in his service. He
straightened. He must meet these two. Through his own wretched appearance
and position he must develop for Katherine more clearly than ever
Graham's superiority. He stepped out, calling softly:

"Katherine!"

She started. She turned in his direction and came swiftly toward him. She
spread her hands.

"Bobby! Bobby! Where have you been?"

There were tears in her eyes. They were like tears that have been
too long coming. He took her hands. Her fingers were cold. They
twitched in his.

"Look at me, Katherine," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

Graham came up. He spoke with apparent difficulty.

"You've not been home. Then what happened last night? Quick! Tell us what
you did--everything."

"I've seen the detective," he answered. "He's told you, too? Be careful.
I think he's back there, watching and listening."

Katherine freed her hands. The tears had dried. She shook a little.

"Then you were at the station," she said. "You must have come from New
York, but I tried so hard to get you there. For hours I telephoned and
telegraphed. Then I got Hartley. Come away from the trees so we can talk
without--without being overheard."

As they moved to the centre of the open space Graham indicated Bobby's
evening clothes.

"Why are you dressed like that, Bobby? You _did_ come from town? You
can tell us everything you did last night after I left you, and early
this morning?"

Bobby shook his head. His answer was reluctant.

"I didn't come from New York just now. I was evidently here last night,
and I can't remember, Hartley. I remember scarcely anything."

Graham's face whitened.

"Tell us," he begged.

"You've got to remember!" Katherine cried.

Bobby as minutely as he could recited the few impressions that remained
from last night.

When he had finished Graham thought for some time.

"Paredes and the danc