if not actually
married, to another girl. It was a very convincing note indeed, and the
messenger was instructed to tell Miss Dalton, should the note make its
impression, that he would take her to a place where she would be able to
observe with her own eyes the faithlessness of one she was on the point
of trusting with her whole life!"

"Well, by the holy----" Robert began.

"Every little twist and turn of this story I had perfected beforehand; I
could not see the possibility of a slip and there was no slip. It was
made plain to Miss Dalton that, if she wished to see Robert under the
unpleasant conditions, she would have to attire herself as a man, for
she was likely to spend some time at least in the back room of a saloon.
My messenger even took her a wig I had provided for the purpose, and she
was informed that, if she wished to take along her own proper clothing,
it would be quite possible to return in that."

Utter admiration possessed Johnson Boller; yet Beatrice, as he knew, was
watching him narrowly.

"You--you contemptible scoundrel!" Johnson Boller said pleasantly.

Him, too, Anthony ignored.

"She took the bait, Dalton, just as I had planned. The man brought her
to me at a point--er--outside this hotel, and she was dressed in her
brother's clothing, as it appears now. It was agreed between us that she
should take the name of David Prentiss for the evening, and under that
name she was introduced to Hitchin here. After that she was brought to
this apartment."

Anthony paused and sighed heavily and impressively, an erring man borne
down by his guilt.

"Miss Dalton, even as a boy, did not look very much like a boy," he
pursued. "It seemed better to me that she change to her own clothes, and
I requested her to do so, on some pretext which, I am frank to say,
slips my mind at the moment. She came into this room afterward and, as I
had planned, a little luncheon was waiting for us. She drank a cup of
coffee and--it had been drugged."

"Where was Johnson Boller all this time?" Beatrice asked.

Although Johnson Boller held his breath, Anthony Fry batted never an
eyelash. Dignified, austere exponent of the rock-ribbed truth that he
had once been, all his sails were set now and the rudder lashed in place
for the sinful course. It would have been a downright effort just then
for Anthony to have told the truth about anything whatever.

"Johnson never came until an hour after it was over," he said. "He went
to