them, called insistently to Tony's rhythm-mad
feet and warm young blood.

"Ah, but I do want to dance with you," she sighed. "I don't want to be
let off. Come."

He bent over her, a flash of triumph in his eyes.

"My own!" he exulted. "You are my own. Kiss me, belovedest."

But Tony pulled away from him and he followed her. A moment later the
scarlet flame was in his arms whirling down the hall to the music of the
violins, and Dick, standing apart by the window watching, tasted the
dregs of the bitterest brew life had yet offered him. Better, far better
than Tony Holiday he knew where the scarlet flame was blowing.

His dance with Tony over, Alan retired to the library where he used the
telephone to transmit a wire to Boston, a message addressed to one James
Roberts, a retired circus performer.

CHAPTER XII

AND THERE IS A FLAME

When Alan Massey strayed into the breakfast room, one of the latest
arrivals at that very informal meal, he found a telegram awaiting him. It
was rather an odd message and ran thus, without capitalization or
punctuation. "Town named correct what is up let sleeping dogs lie sick."
Alan frowned as he thrust the yellow envelope into his pocket.

"Does the fool mean he is sick, I wonder," he cogitated. "Lord, I wish I
could let well enough alone. But this sword of Damocles business is
beginning to get on my nerves. I have half a mind to take a run into town
this afternoon and see the old reprobate. I'll bet he doesn't know as
much as he claims to, but I'd like to be sure before he dies."

Just then Tony Holiday entered, clad in a rose hued linen and looking
like a new blown rose herself.

"You are the latest ever," greeted Carlotta.

"On the contrary I have been up since the crack of dawn," denied Tony,
slipping into a seat beside her friend.

Carlotta opened her eyes wide. Then she understood.

"You got up to see Dick off," she announced.

"I did. Please give me some strawberries, Hal, if you don't mean to eat
the whole pyramid yourself. I not only got up, but I went to the
station; not only went to the station, but I walked the whole mile and a
half. Can anybody beat that for a morning record?" Tony challenged as she
deluged her berries with cream.

Alan Massey uttered a kind of a snarling sound such as a lion disturbed
from a nap might have emitted. He had thought he was through with Carson
when the latter had made his farewells the night before, saying
goodnight to T