e, unadulterated hell! He couldn't
get near Helena alone with a ten-foot pole, morning, noon or night--she
had taken good care of that. And he wanted Helena--he _wanted_ her! It
was an obsession with him now--at times driving him half crazy,--and it
didn't help any that he saw her grow more glorious, more beautiful
every day! Of course she knew she had him--had him where she knew he
couldn't do a thing--where she could laugh at him--go the limit with
Thornton if she liked. But, curse it, it wasn't only Thornton--that was
what he could not understand--she had begun to keep away from him before
ever Thornton had come back.

Madison was near the porch now, and, raising his eyes, noted a
supplicant going into the shrine-room--a woman, richly dressed but in
widow's weeds, who walked feebly. The game went on by itself, once
started--there were half a hundred more about the lawn! Like a snowball
rolling down hill, as he had put it at the Roost. The Roost! If he only
had Helena back there for about a minute there'd be an end of this!
She'd go a little too far one of these days--a little too far--it was
pretty near far enough now--and then there'd be a showdown, game or no
game, and somebody would get hurt in the smash, and--

He lifted his eyes again, as some one came hurrying through the cottage
door. It was the Flopper. And then to his surprise, he found himself
being pushed unceremoniously from the porch and pulled excitedly behind
the trellis.

"What's the matter with you!" he demanded angrily. "Are you crazy!"

"T'ank de Lord youse have showed up!" gasped the Flopper. "Say, honest,
I can't do nothin' wid him--he's got me near bughouse."

"Who?"--Madison scowled irritably.

"De Patriarch, of course. He's noivous, an' gettin' worse all de time.
He won't eat an' he won't keep still. He wants Helena, an' he keeps
writin' her name on de slate--he's got me going fer fair."

"Well, I'm not Helena!" growled Madison. "Why doesn't she go to him?"

"Now wouldn't dat sting youse!" ejaculated the Flopper. "How's she goin'
to him when she ain't here?"

"Not here?" repeated Madison sharply. "Where is she?"

The Flopper looked down his nose.

"I dunno," said he.

Madison stared at him for a moment--then he reached out and caught the
Flopper's arm in a sudden and far from gentle grip.

"Out with it!" he snapped.

"I dunno where she is," said the Flopper, with some reluctance. "She
ain't back yet, dat's all."

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