nding, his knees as stiff as iron.

"Is it anything serious?" asked DeMille.

"What! has anything happened?" came in halting, frightened tones from
Peggy.

"It concerns me alone, and it is purely of a business nature.
Seriously, I can't delay going for another minute. It is vital. In an
hour I'll return. Peggy, don't be worried--don't be distressed about
me. Go on and have a good time, everybody, and you'll find me the
jolliest fellow of all when I come back. It's twelve o'clock. I'll be
here by one on the 23d of September."

"Let me go with you," pleaded Peggy, tremulously, as she followed him
into the hallway.

"I must go alone," he answered. "Don't worry, little woman, it will be
all right."

His kiss sent a chill to the very bottom of Peggy's heart.

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE FLIGHT OF JONES

Everything seemed like a dream to Brewster as he rushed off through the
night to the office of Grant & Ripley. He was dazed, bewildered, hardly
more than half-conscious. A bitter smile crept about his lips as he
drew away from the street-car track almost as his hand touched the rail
of a car he had signaled. He remembered that he did not have money
enough to pay his fare. It was six or seven blocks to the office of the
lawyers, and he was actually running before he stopped at the entrance
of the big building.

Never had an elevator traveled more slowly than the one which shot him
to the seventh floor. A light shone through the transom above the
attorneys' door and he entered without so much as a rap on the panel.
Grant, who was pacing the floor, came to a standstill and faced his
visitor.

"Close the door, please," came in steady tones from Ripley. Mr. Grant
dropped into a chair and Brewster mechanically slammed the door.

"Is it true?" he demanded hoarsely, his hand still on the knob.

"Sit down, Brewster, and control yourself," said Ripley.

"Good God, man, can't you see I am calm?" cried Monty. "Go on--tell me
all about it. What do you know? What have you heard?"

"He cannot be found, that's all," announced Ripley, with deadly
intentness. "I don't know what it means. There is no explanation. The
whole thing is inconceivable. Sit down and I will tell you everything
as quickly as possible."

"There isn't much to tell," said Grant, mechanically.

"I can take it better standing," declared Brewster, shutting his jaws
tightly.

"Jones was last seen in Butte on the third of this month," said Ripley.
"We s