lk handkerchief from his coat cuff, to dust the register wistfully.
"Why didn't I devote my talents to the drama instead of room-keys and
due-bills?"

But Miss Gwendolyn was too busy talking to the Milwaukee drummer in Room
72 to formulate a logical reason. Shirley and Holloway improved the time
by taking the elevator to the top floor where Helene greeted them at the
door of her pretty apartment. She welcomed them happily, declaring it
had been a lonesome morning.

"Weren't you resting from that long thrill of last night, in which you
starred?" asked Holloway.

"It was too thrilling for me to sleep: I know I look a perfect frump,
this morning. I tossed on the pillow, watching the dawn over your
towering New York roofs, so nervous and almost miserable. But, with
company, it's all right again."

Holloway laughed inwardly at the warmth of the glance which she bestowed
upon Shirley. From the angle of an audience, he was beginning to observe
a phase of this double play of personalities which was unseen by either
of the participants. Two sleepless nights, after such a first evening
together, and what then? He imagined the denouement, with a growing
enjoyment of his vantage-point as the game advanced.

"To-day, I am reversing the usual progress of history," said Shirley, as
he sat down in the window-seat. "From second juvenility I am returning
to the first. In other words, I wish to become your adoring suitor in
the role of Montague Shirley."

"I don't understand," and her eyes widened in wonder, not without an
accompanying blush which did not escape Holloway.

"No longer a lamb in sheep's clothing, I want to entertain you, without
the halo of William Grimsby's millions. I want to take tea with these
gentle-voiced cut-throats, who after my warning to-day, are directing
their attention to me." He narrated the narrow escape from death in
the racing-car. Helene's eyes darkened with an uncertainty which he had
hardly expected. Perhaps she would refuse to carry out their compact
along these dangerous lines.

"Do you feel it wise to place yourself beneath this new menace?"

"The sword of Damocles is over me now, I know. To run would be a
confession of weakness and open the field for his further activities,
with the rear-guard continuously exposed. There is nothing like the
personal equation. I will call at five this afternoon, if you are
willing, Miss Marigold?"

"I will fight it out to the end," and she placed her warm