aeroplanes. Yet instinct
made her run toward the far-off road, away from the plunging, bellowing
cattle. She thought of Hilliard, and how he would hate to hear of the
death she had died. He would give his life for hers, as Laska had given
her life for her lover.

XXIX

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS

Just as Nick was finishing a somewhat hurried and sketchy luncheon a
telegram was handed to him. It was from Max Wisler, the San Francisco
detective, and it said laconically, "Don't let A. M. visit C. G."

As Nick read, the blood rushed to his forehead, and he sprang to his feet,
knocking over the chair in which he had been sitting.

Max Wisler had not been told by him that Mrs. May was to visit Mrs.
Gaylor; but that must be what he meant. It had not occurred to Nick that
it could be necessary to mention Angela's brief stay, in telling Wisler
that he himself was "running up to Lucky Star." The detective must have
found out in some ferreting way of his own. And he had telegraphed, "Don't
let A. M. visit C. G." What could be his reason? Then suddenly a dreadful
explanation flashed into Nick's head; flashed there and stayed, as if
printed in letters of blood on his brain.

Wisler had been right after all. He had found out who sent the box of
poison oak. Those hateful questions of his, so much resented, had been
justified. There could be no other explanation. Nothing else could excuse
this warning. It seemed too hideous to be true that Wisler had
telegraphed because there was danger for Angela, and yet----

Nick did not wait to finish out the sentence in his mind. The Japanese
servant, who was cook and valet and chamberman, had brought the telegram
and the last luncheon dish at the same time. Now he was providing Billy
the chauffeur with something to eat. But Nick did not wait or even think
about Billy. The engagement with Mrs. Gaylor and Angela was for five
o'clock, but that made no difference to Nick, with the telegram in his
hand. Knowing what he knew--for he did know now, as if he had seen all
Wisler's proofs--he would not trust Angela alone with Carmen for a single
hour. He was going this instant to snatch her away, with no matter what
excuse. He would think of something to satisfy Angela, for she must not
find out the truth if he could help it--anyhow, not while she was under
Carmen's roof; it would shock and distress her too much. The principal
thing was to get her out of the place quickly and quietly. As for
Ca