y,
and the baffled lover could only see that the hallway was dark,
with one half-turned-up gas jet.

Clayton cautiously explored the rear of the house, finding an
alleyway suitable for unloading the bulky wares of the "Valkyrie"
saloon.

A broad flight of steps led down to the cellarway of the "Valkyrie,"
and a similar one to the basement of the old mansion.

"The basement is used for business storage, evidently," mused the
puzzled Clayton; but even with his brief experience of the night
before, he could tell that the great rear drawing-room and library
were the rooms into which he had borne the senseless form of the
woman he madly loved. Through a chink of the enamelled white shutters
a faint pencil of light shone out in the gloomy darkness.

"Good God!" he groaned, "I would give my life to be within that
room." For his heart told him that Irma Gluyas lay helpless within
there, and he only wandered away at midnight, when a stray policeman
suspiciously eyed him lingering in the alley.

"Einstein is my only hope," he despairingly cried, as he wandered
back to the bridge and sought his lonely rooms. The silky-gray
dawn found him still dressed, lying on a chair, with his eyes fixed
upon the picture, the first sight of which had been the beginning
of his fevered dream.

And then, suddenly recalling himself, he put out the flaring lights,
bathed his throbbing temples, and went out to seek an early-opening
coffee-shop. "I must be myself to-day," he muttered, after the
drowsy waiter had forced some breakfast upon him.

"For the three-days' holiday begins at noon, and I shall be free
then. I must do my bank business alone, and keep Einstein on the
watch."

By sheer force of habit, he had opened the damp morning--paper
thrust upon the swell customer.

"Some young fly by night, throwing his money and his life away,"
mused the experienced Celtic attendant. "Give me the Tenderloin
for fools. And there's a new crop every year!"

Suddenly Randall Clayton started. There was the confirmation of Jack
Witherspoon's prophetic warnings. The words "Important Financial
Changes" met his eye, with the announcement of the "cut and dried"
election of the Western Trading Company. "So, Mr. Arthur Ferris,
you are the new vice-president, and Mr. Hugh Worthington the
managing director." He saw how he had been duped.

Throwing a few coins on the table, he sped homeward and made a
careful toilet. "Jack will be here in three days,