ll of holes! You heard me! If I find you at the house when I get
back, look out for your wretched skin!"

She sprang into her own taxi with a swift word to the chauffeur and
bowled away, leaving her erstwhile guard wringing her hands in the road.

At the gate of the neat little frame house far up on the Parkway, her
driver hesitated.

"Excuse me, Miss, but it's only fair to tell you this car can be traced
here from the stand. I wouldn't double-cross you, but if the police
get after me I'll have to come through."

Willa smiled and then her face grew thoughtful.

"This isn't a matter for the police. You look like a white man.
What's your job worth to you a week?"

"Anywhere from fifty to seventy-five; depends on the fares I get," the
chauffeur returned promptly.

"I think I can use you. What is your name?"

"Daniel Morrissey, Miss."

"I'm Willa Murdaugh." She gave no heed to the man's respectful stare.
"I'll give you a hundred a week flat. You throw up your job, meet me
to-morrow at the Circle at ten in the morning and we'll go and buy a
good car, light and strong and fast. Can you drive a racer?"

"Anything on wheels but a locomotive!"

"All right. I'll pay you for six months, whether I use you that long
or not, and make you a present of the car when I'm through with you.
Is it a go, Dan?"

Then ensued the spectacle of Miss Willa Murdaugh, most important
debutante of the season, and Daniel Morrissey, chauffeur, binding the
bargain with a solemn handshake.

While her new ally waited, she mounted the steps of the porch and rang
the bell. Hurried footsteps thumped along the hall within, and a
weazened, hunch backed lad smiled eagerly in the doorway.

"Greeting to thee, Jose." Willa spoke in soft, liquid Spanish. "I
have come to tell thee that we are safe here no longer. We must seek
another casa this very day."

Dinner-time came and passed, and the Halstead family sat in strained
silence, their engagements forgotten in the new anxiety which
enshrouded them. Mason North, hastily summoned to the conference,
paced the floor restlessly.

"It was a mistake, Irene!" he said at last. "If you had told me I
would never have sanctioned it. You can't treat a girl of Willa's type
that way."

"But something had to be done!" Mrs. Halstead cried. "You and Ripley
were both powerless to combat her, and we must know what scandal these
mysterious errands of hers are likely to portend. This is what comes