l of turns but I'll manage
somehow, if I break my neck."

There was danger at every turn. A cold sweat came out on Kenny's
forehead.

"Adam," he said quietly, "how did you manage to get there in the first
place? How did you open the door of your room?"

"Wheeled myself close to the knob and unlatched it--"

"Yes?"

"Then I wheeled myself out of the way and poked at the door with a
stick."

"Stick! What stick?"

"A stick out of a shade. Do you think I'm a fool?"

Kenny groaned.

"After that," purred the old man with a hint of pride, "until I got
into the dark hallway and began to bump, it was easy."

The sitting room door was still open. Kenny wheeled his exasperating
old man of the sea over the sill in a terror of foreboding.

Adam stared at him.

"Where in the name of Heaven," he said, "did you get that rig? You
look like an actor."

Kenny turned a dark red and ignored the question.

"Don't like it!" jeered the old man.

"There's a Shakespeare quotation," reminded Kenny dangerously, "that
begins--Hum! how does it begin? Yes. 'There was no thought of
pleasing you' and so on. That's it."

"You impudent devil! Close the door."

"I'll close it when I go out. And I'll lock it."

They faced each other in a silence perilously akin to hate.

"Are you a Christian?" hissed Adam Craig between his teeth. "Or are
you a heartless pagan?"

"I'm a pagan," said Kenny. "Orthodoxy, Adam," he added bitterly with
thoughts of Joan, "I leave for such compassionate hearts as yours."

"I don't want it!" said Adam instantly. "It's churchiology, not
Christianity. They are as different, thank God, as you and I."

A gust of wind and rain tore at the windows. The old man fixed his
piercing eyes on Kenny's face. Kenny shuddered and looked away.

"Hear the rain!" said Adam.

"I hear it," said Kenny hopelessly.

"And you'll lock me in!"

"Yes!"

"I'll ring for Hughie and tell him to batter the door down. I would
rather bump myself into eternity down that hallway," flung out Adam
Craig passionately, banging his fist upon the arm of the wheel-chair,
"than sit here, alone, to-night."

With his hands clenched Kenny choked back his anger and faced his fate.
He could not lock the door. Either he must stay or go back with the
haunting conviction that this hungry-eyed old fiend who could strum
with diabolic skill upon the sensitive strings of his very soul, would
propel himself in his wheel-chair to th