ose I'm making an ass of myself!" said his weak voice. "I can't
help it! On my soul, I can't help it. Give me a shot of the brandy,
though, and maybe I'll steady a bit!"

Something like one hundred years passed; then the hand slid from the
door and they could hear Johnson Boller leading the sufferer gently away
from the shock of his whole lifetime. Mary, her eyes closed for a
moment, gripped herself and spoke very softly:

"Mr. Fry, if--if you don't get that boy out of here and then find a way
of sending me home--if you don't do it instantly, I'm going out there to
Bob and tell him that you brought me here and kept me here all night
against my will! After that, whatever happens, happens!"

Life returned to Anthony's frozen legs.

"I will go!" he managed to say, and he went.

The brandy was already within Robert Vining, yet it seemed to have made
small difference in his condition. The young man's eyes were wild and
rolling; they rested on Anthony for a moment as if they had seen him
before but could not quite place him.

"You--you've been telephoning," he said.

"Not yet," said Anthony, "but if you'll run along and do your share,
I'll think up ways of helping you."

"My share?" Vining echoed.

Mentally, he was not more than half himself. Anthony Fry, therefore,
grew very firm and very stern, pleasantly certain that Robert was paying
no heed to his pallor or the uncontrollable shake that had come to his
hands.

"If the girl has really disappeared," he said steadily, "your part is
not to be sitting here and whining for help, Robert. Why don't you get
out and hustle and see if you can't get track of her? Have you gone to
all her friends?"

"Eh? No!"

"Then go now!" said Anthony Fry. "You know her girl friends? Get after
the most intimate at first--and get about it!"

Here he scowled, and Robert Vining, rising, shook himself together.

"You're right, Anthony," he said. "I'm an ass; I've lost my head
completely this last hour. I--I caught it from her father, I think; the
man's going about like an infuriated bull, swearing to kill everybody in
the world if Mary isn't returned and--but you're right, old chap. Thank
you for steadying me." Robert concluded bravely. "Where's my hat? I've
been wearing it all this time, eh? Good-by, Anthony. Good-by, Johnson."

He tried to smile at them--and he fled. This time it was Johnson Boller
who turned weak at his going. Mr. Boller, smiling at his old friend in a
sickly, gr