on the occasion of his first visit to the studio.

"They're waiting for me," she explained as John met her. "You'll ride
with us."

She led him to the first automobile in the line. In the front seat,
beside the driver, was the man with the horn-rim glasses whom John
recognized as her director. They took seats in the tonneau and he shook
hands with the director whom Consuello introduced as "Mr. Bonwit."
Heading the caravan of machines their car started out of the driveway.

"I wanted Reggie--Mr. Gibson--to come with us," she explained, "but he
had other engagements, something to do with his work, and could not get
away. He promised to join us later. I am anxious to hear what he has
been doing and what you think of it. I know all about his raid on those
places in Spring street."

His part in the raid with the suspicion it directed against Gibson as an
ally of "Gink" Cummings returned to him. Principally because of the
faith Consuello had in Gibson he had been unable to convince himself
that the commissioner was in league with Cummings, despite the arguments
advanced by Brennan and the attitude taken by the publisher of his
newspaper, a view that did not reject the possibility that Gibson was a
masquerader.

"He told me that what you said about newspaper men wondering why he did
not attack 'Gink' Cummings caused him to decide to make the raid," she
went on. "You may not believe it, but he respects your judgment and has
a great deal of admiration for you and the man who works with you,
Brennan, isn't it?"

Passing the outskirts of the city the machines took them through a
district being built up with pretty little bungalows of varied colors
and architecture.

"I often wonder," she said, "whether the people who live in these houses
ever realize what Mr. Gibson is trying to do for them. They seem so
apart from the hurry and scurry of life; they see so little of the evil
he is trying to save them from. They read of him, perhaps, and commend
him in their minds for what he is doing and let it go at that. I don't
suppose they ever feel they owe him a personal debt of gratitude."

"It is a common fault to hold aloof and think little of danger until it
strikes home to you," John said. "And yet I envy them for what they do
not know, for what they do not see, for their self-content."

Leaving the city behind, the automobile swung on to a boulevard leading
toward the hills. She explained to him the purpose of their trip.