king-tube, and directed the chauffeur to turn.
"Go back till you get within a few yards of that auto we passed hung up
on the road," he added. And to Clo:

"Astonishing the interest you take in the Herons!" he teased.

"Not in them. In him. I don't think I like Mrs. Heron," she explained.

"You've worried about him ever since you came to yourself yesterday. But
then, I'm used to John Heron's life being threatened. It used to happen
about once a week. And he is alive to this day."

"I feel awfully responsible," said Clo. "You see, I heard Kit and Churn
talking of the plot, and saying that Chuff was sure to have found
someone else, after Pete died."

"I tried to get Heron three times on long distance yesterday," said
O'Reilly, "and when he was always out, I wired."

"You couldn't explain clearly in the telegram."

"If you really saw him in the car, he's all right, up to date. There it
is, still stranded. We shall soon know."

"Will you get out and talk to him seriously?" Clo urged.

"Yes. If it's he and not his ghost you saw. I'll get him to walk along
the road with me, out of earshot from his wife."

The gray limousine slowed, and carefully stopped. The chauffeur had been
told that, for his life, he must not let the car jolt or jerk.

Justin kissed his bride of a few hours good-bye for a few minutes, and
jumped out.

While Clo kissed her hand, almost timidly, because Justin had kissed it,
Justin himself walked on to the other car.

"You!" exclaimed Dolores Heron. "So it was you in the limousine that
hailed us? Funny I didn't recognize your voice, but the chauffeur's
tinkering made such a noise----"

O'Reilly was about to ask for Heron when Dolores introduced him to Mr.
Hammersley-Fisher. "He's our host at Narragansett, and is taking us over
to Roger Sands,'" she said. "Jack's in the car, very bored. I believe
he's gone to sleep."

"No, he hasn't," Heron's voice answered rather testily, for he secretly
disliked Dolores' habit of calling him "Jack." "He's only waiting for a
chance to speak!"

O'Reilly went to the window of the car, and shook hands with his
friends.

"It's not possible that you're going to the Sands'?" Heron said.

"I should have made the same remark about you a few days ago," retorted
O'Reilly. "But--circumstances have altered cases with us both."

"My wife is the circumstance that has altered my case," Heron replied,
in the tone of a man with a grievance.

"So is mine!" returned J