them pensively for a little
while. "I do not know intimately any of these ladies. They have,
doubtless, a husband and fathers and, I hope, a few big brothers, too,
to take care of them properly. And since they have, I may as well tell
you just what I mean to do. I'm going to Mrs. Wales first."

It produced no visible shock.

"I'm going to accuse her, in so many words, of passing last night in
this apartment, and I'll say you confessed!" pursued Beatrice. "Perhaps
she can clear herself by showing me the duplicate of this hat; perhaps
she cannot. In any event, it seems probable that her husband and the
rest of her male relatives will make a point of coming here and beating
you two to a jelly."

It did seem rather likely, and Johnson Boller glanced at his old friend
and received no aid at all.

"Unless she confesses, Miss Cathcart receives the next call," said
Johnson's wife. "The procedure will be the same; the results to you, I
sincerely hope, will be the same. After that, if necessary, I shall go
to the Dalton woman's home and repeat the performance, and doubtless
_her_ father and _her_ brothers will----"

"Say! Do you want to have us killed?" Johnson Boller gasped.

"Yes!" hissed the Spanish strain in Beatrice. "Well?"

Anthony shook his head quietly.

"None of the ladies you have mentioned----" he began.

"One of them was here, and I'll soon know which one!" Beatrice corrected
quickly. "Do you wish to save the other two?"

Anthony said nothing.

"Nope!" Johnson Boller said doggedly.

Beatrice rose slowly and looked them over.

"Do you know," said she, all withering contempt, "I had been fool enough
to fancy that there was man enough in one or the other of you to spare
the innocent women a very distressing quarter of an hour. Even if that
failed, I had fancied that one or the other would have sufficient
intelligence to avoid a thrashing if possible. I was wrong! There isn't
a spark of manhood or an ounce of brain matter in either of you--and to
think that I married _you_!"

She had risen. She was getting ready to go upon her fell mission; and
the calm contempt slid away from Anthony and cold terror crawled up his
spinal column. Just when he had fondly imagined that all was well,
Beatrice had come and proved that all was anything else in the world!

Just when he had fancied that Mary was safe at home and, with her
doubtless capable maid, was devising a convincing tale to account for
her absence, Beat