Neil
will never be saved by people helping him. He must be left to help
himself."

"That is hope enough to work on. Tell me now, exactly what to do."

Reginald's plans had long been perfected, and by the noon of the third
day the beautiful home was nothing but bare walls and bare floors.
That same night, Reginald Rath and his sister left Glasgow by the
midnight train, and the following morning, Bruce Kinlock, with his
wife and five children, moved into the dismantled house, and in two
days it was in a fairly habitable condition. There was, of course,
confusion and a multitude of bustling servants and helpers, and a
pretty, frail-looking little lady, sitting helplessly in a large
chair, and Bruce ordering round, and five children in every place they
ought not be, but there was universal good temper, and pleasurable
excitement, and a brilliantly lighted house, when on the following
Saturday night, Neil drove up to his residence.

He thought, at first, that Mrs. Ruleson had a dinner party, then he
remembered Roberta's reverence for the Sabbath, and knew she would
not permit any dancing and feasting so near its daybreaking. The
Sabbath observance was also his own strong religious tenet, he was an
ardent supporter of Doctor Agnew and his extremist views, and
therefore this illumination in the Ruleson mansion, so near to the
Sabbath-day, offended him.

"Roberta knows that I am particular about my good name, and that I am
jealously careful of the honor of the Sabbath, and yet--yet! Look at
my house! It is lit up as if for a carnival of witches!" Then he
hurried the cab man, and his keys being in his hand, he applied the
latch-key to the lock. It would not move it, and the noise in the
house amazed him. He rang the bell violently, and no one answered it.
He raged, and rang it again. There was plenty of movement in the
house, and he could plainly hear a man's voice, and a guffaw of
laughter. He kept the bell ringing, and kicked the door with his
foot.

Then a passionate voice asked what he wanted.

"I want to get in. This is my house."

"It is not your house. It never was your house."

"What number is this?"

"Twenty-three, Western Crescent. What Tomfool asks?"

"This is my house. Open the door, or I will call the police." He did
call the policeman on the beat, and the man said, "A new family moved
in yesterday, Sir, and I was taken from Hillside Crescent, only two
days ago. I am on the night watch. I havena seen a