iled. She was smiling
with eyes and lips when young Barnes turned back his head from another
reproach of Bateato and looked to see how she was coming on.

"Thank heaven!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were dead. I wanted to go
out for a doctor, but these confounded policemen wouldn't let me--yes,
and they wouldn't unlock me. Have I fanned enough? I'm pretty well
tuckered out, and these feathers get in one's nose so. Then this is an
extraordinary kind of a fan--they use them in harems or something of
the sort, and I've never fanned in harems."

"Please stop, then," laughed Helen, "and I'm a thousand times obliged
to you. If I could only have a glass of water I think I would be
myself again."

Bateato had at last pried into a cabinet that contained a decanter of
brandy and strange looking Moorish goblets, and from some curtained
enclosure he obtained cold water from a faucet. A sip of the potent
brandy and draught of water brought the color back to the girl's
cheeks and the light to her eyes. The change was so reassuring that
Whitney Barnes actually beamed and for a few moments dropped all
thought of his handcuffs.

"My, but you are beautiful!" he said impulsively. "I don't blame
Travers for going daffy in the Ritz, and do you know your eyes are
exactly like your cousin's!"

Helen laughed in spite of herself at the young man's headlong gush of
words, then became suddenly serious.

"We haven't time to talk about eyes now," she said soberly. "You must
assist me in telling these policemen how I brought this terrible
embarrassment upon Mr. Gladwin."

"Nothing of the sort," retorted Barnes. "He wouldn't hear of it. He'd
cut off both his arms before he'd allow your name to be dragged into
such a sensation. And I'd add mine, too, willingly, with these
bracelets on them."

"But that detective said he had a warrant for Mr. Gladwin for eloping
with me," cried Helen, blushing scarlet. "And, you know"----

"Yes, I know you're going to weep or faint or something else. Tell me
about your cousin--she's not m-m-married?"

"Sadie married!" ejaculated Helen. "Why, she's deathly afraid of men.
She's the most timid little thing in the world."

"Good!" cried Barnes, enthusiastically. "These handcuffs are not half
bad, now you tell me that."

"Why, what do you mean?" asked Helen, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh, nothing," said Barnes, trying to look unconcerned. "She's very
young?" he added quickly.

"A year younger than I am," said