his chair by the bedside he flattered himself that
his expression was beatifically cheerful and his voice perfectly steady.

As the day waned a storm gathered, and by nightfall the sanitarium and the
surrounding country were in the grip of a full-fledged equinoctial. Doctor
Dempsy was put to bed early, and Peter went back to his room in the main
building to write himself into a state of temporary forgetfulness, if he
could. He had tinkered with his pen, sharpened half a dozen pencils, and
mussed up as many sheets of paper when a knock brought him to his feet.
Sheila O'Leary stood at the door. Her lips were bravely trying to smile
away the haggard lines of the face.

Unconsciously Peter's arms went out to her as he repeated that old cry of
his in the days when he was a sufferer in the Surgical, "Why--why, it's
Leerie!" and his love seemed to pound through every syllable.

For the flash of a second the eyes of the girl leaped to his in answer,
but in another flash they seemed to have traveled miles away, looking back
at him with the sadness of a lost angel. "Yes, it's Leerie again--come
for help," she announced, tersely.

"All right." Peter tried to sound matter-of-fact.

"Don't ask questions; just do it. Will you?"

Peter nodded.

"You said once if you had to, you could drive through any storm, snow,
hail, or rain, that you had ever seen. Yes? Then get your car and take
Doctor Brainard out to-night. Take him anywhere, and keep him going till
he's so tired he's ready to drop. Talk to him, tell him stories, don't let
him talk about himself--or to-morrow. And bring him home when you think he
can sleep."

"Yes. What are you going to do?"

"Sleep, I hope." She turned to go, but came back again and laid a cold
hand in Peter's. "Thank you. Don't think I don't appreciate it."

"Wait a minute. As it happens, I haven't met Doctor Brainard, and there's
a perfectly good chance he may not care about joy-riding in a young
hurricane--even in my company," Peter ended ironically.

Leerie gave a little hollow laugh. "Oh, he'll go--don't worry. I'll bring
him down and introduce him. Ready in ten minutes?" And this time she was
gone.

Peter knew if he lived to the ripe old age of Solomon himself he should
never forget the smallest detail of that night--Doctor Brainard's curt,
almost surly greeting, the plunge into the car, and the start. After that
Peter felt like a mythological being piloting the elements. He headed for
a sta