ess body.

"Your friend," said Hoff, as he placed her in the forward seat and
wrapped a rug about her, "I am afraid, is badly hurt."

"It's our chauffeur, Thomas Dean," she explained confusedly.

She had been wondering what she could say to Frederic to account for her
presence there. It was unconventional at least for a girl to be
motorcycling about the country dressed in man's clothes with a
chauffeur. Hoff must surely realize now that she had been shadowing him.
She felt almost certain that he had known it from the very first, since
that afternoon when he had overheard her telephoning about the "fifth
book." Yet never by word or manner had he betrayed the fact that he
suspected her. Beyond his customary reserve in speaking about himself or
his activities, there was nothing to indicate that he knew anything yet.
Whatever she told him now she must be careful not to betray her mission.
Perhaps even in spite of all that had happened she still might be able
to aid Chief Fleck in trapping them.

But did she really want to trap Frederic Hoff? Had Thomas Dean's bitter
charge that she was trying to protect him been true? Frederic Hoff loved
her. She, yes--she had to admit it to herself--she was beginning to love
him. Could she go on with it?

Hoff had been busy lifting the unconscious Dean into the tonneau. As she
watched him as he lifted up the body unaided she was conscious of
admiration of his great strength.

"Will he die?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he answered. "He is badly hurt. We must get him to a
doctor at once."

He stopped a moment longer to examine the car. Fortunately the glancing
blow that it had struck the motorcycle had done no more damage than
shatter one of the lamps and bend the mud guard. Soon they were moving
rapidly in the direction of New York.

"I think," said Hoff, "we had better leave him in the care of the first
doctor we come to. We can say that he is an injured motorcyclist we
found lying in the road."

"And me?" asked Jane, almost fearfully.

"I'll take you back to the city with me."

"No," she replied, "that won't do. I ought to stay by him. Besides, if
I return with you, it will be hard to explain."

He turned to look inquiringly at her and for a moment drove on in
silence.

"There's nothing more you can do for the man once he is in competent
medical hands, except to notify his people. Is he married?"

"No," said Jane, "he's not married. I can tell his friends."

"Did