r gaze in replying. "Perhaps you also
disapprove of his excellency's kindness?" she said, indignantly.

Harley found himself temporarily at a loss for words. She was perfectly
well aware that he disapproved, and now was taking a cruel pleasure in
reminding him of the fact that he was not entitled to do so. Had he
been capable of that calm analysis to which ordinarily he submitted all
psychological problems, he must have found matter for rejoicing in
this desire of the girl's to hurt him. "I am afraid, Miss Abingdon," he
replied, quietly, "that the matter is not one in which I am entitled to
express my opinion."

She continued to look at him challengingly, but:

"Quite right, Mr. Harley," said Doctor McMurdoch, "but if you were, your
opinion would be the same as mine."

Mrs. McMurdoch's glance became positively beseeching, but the physician
ignored it. "As your father's oldest friend," he continued, "I feel
called upon to remark that it isn't usual for strangers to thrust their
attentions upon a bereaved family."

"Oh," said Phil Abingdon with animation, "do I understand that this is
also your opinion, Mr. Harley?"

"As a man of the world," declared Doctor McMurdoch, gloomily, "it cannot
fail to be."

Tardily enough he now succumbed to the silent entreaties of his wife.
"I will speak of this later," he concluded. "Mayhap I should not have
spoken now."

Tears began to trickle down Phil Abingdon's cheeks.

"Oh, my dear, my dear!" cried little Mrs. McMurdoch, running to her
side.

But the girl sprang up, escaping from the encircling arm of the motherly
old lady. She shook her head disdainfully, as if to banish tears and
weakness, and glanced rapidly around from face to face. "I think you are
all perfectly cruel and horrible," she said in a choking voice, turned,
and ran out.

A distant door banged.

"H'm," muttered Doctor McMurdoch, "I've put my foot in it."

His wife looked at him in speechless indignation and then followed Phil
Abingdon from the room.

CHAPTER IX. TWO REPORTS

On returning to his office Paul Harley found awaiting him the report
of the man to whom he had entrusted the study of the movements of Nicol
Brinn. His mood was a disturbed one, and he had observed none of his
customary precautions in coming from Doctor McMurdoch's house. He
wondered if the surveillance which he had once detected had ceased.
Perhaps the chambers of Nicol Brinn were the true danger zone upon which
these subtl