was hatched. What did
it mean!

And so he stood there for a little space; then presently he started
forward again; and presently he reached the village street, walked down
its length, greeted from every doorway with hearty, unaffected
sincerity, and after a little while he came to the hotel, and to his
room--and there he locked the door.

Helena was straight--the words were repeating themselves over and over
in his brain. He began to pace up and down the room. The words seemed to
take form and shape in fiery red letters, being scrawled by invisible
hands upon the walls--_Helena was straight_. Straight with Thornton,
straight with any man--straight with her Maker. He knew that now--he had
read it as a soul-truth in those brave, deep, tear-dimmed eyes. And he
had _lost_ her! It seemed as though he had become suddenly conscious
that he was enduring some agony that was never to know an end, that
from now on must be with him always. He had lost her--lost Helena.

From his pocket he drew out his keys and opened his trunks, and took out
the trays and spread them about. There were very many trays, they nested
one upon the other--and they were exceedingly ingenious
trays--false-bottomed every one. And now he opened these false-bottoms,
every one of them, and stood and looked at them. The surest, safest,
biggest game he had ever played, the game that had known no single
hitch, the game that had brought no whispering breath of suspicion flung
its tribute in his face. Money that he had never tried to count, notes
of all denominations, large and small, glutted the receptacles--jewels
in necklaces, in rings, in pendants, in brooches, in bracelets,
diamonds, rubies, emeralds, winked at him and scintillated and glowed
and were afire.

And he stood and looked upon them. What was it the Flopper had said when
they had brought the Patriarch back--he did not remember. What was it
that Pale Face Harry had said a little while ago--he did not remember.
These were jewels here and money--wealth--and he had won the greatest
game that was ever played--only he had lost her--lost Helena. And he
stood and looked upon them--and slowly there crept to his face a
white-lipped smile.

"I'm beat!" he whispered hoarsely. "Beat--by the game--I won."

--XXI--

FACE VALUE

It was evening of the same day--and there came a knock at the outer door
of the cottage porch.

The Flopper answered it, and came back to the Patriarch's room; where
th