arged opening thus made Mr. Braden saw or thought he saw, a face. It
was but the merest glimpse he had of it, white with the reflected light
of the lamp. For an instant it stood out against the darkness, and then
the blind dropped back into place, hiding it.

Hastily Mr. Braden shoved the papers in his pocket, while a gentle but
clammy perspiration broke out upon his forehead. But had he actually
seen a face, or was it some freak of vision? He went to the window,
raised the blind and peeped out. It was pitch dark and raining hard, but
across from him there was a glint of white, and in a moment he
identified it as merely a painted post of a fence glistening in the
rain. So that was the "face." Mr. Braden's heart resumed its normal
action. He closed the safe, spun the combination, sat down and picking
up a paper began to read.

It was more than an hour later when Dr. Wilkes arrived. He came alone,
Larry having gone in search of his brothers. Mr. Braden listened to the
sound of low voices, of footsteps coming and going on the floor above.
Finally Wilkes came down.

"And how is the patient?" Mr. Braden asked.

"Gone out."

"Gone out? You don't mean--"

Dr. Wilkes nodded. Between him and Mr. Braden there was little
cordiality.

"What was the--er--cause of death?"

"Valvular cardiac disease of long standing."

"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" Mr. Braden sorrowed, his hand involuntarily
caressing the papers in his inside pocket. "You never can--or--that is
in the midst of life we are in death. Why, only an hour or so ago he was
planning for a trip abroad."

"He's on a longer trip," Wilkes said grimly.

But the pounding of hoofs outside indicated that Larry had found his
brothers. In a moment he entered with Gavin and Gerald. Dr. Wilkes did
not soften his reply to Gerald's quick question. They stared at him,
stupefied. It seemed to Mr. Braden that he should express his sympathy.

"My dear boys," he said, "I assure you that I feel for you in this dark
hour. Providence in its inscrutable wisdom has seen fit--"

But Gavin interrupted him.

"Cut it out!" he growled. "We don't want any stuff like that from
_you_!"

Shortly afterward Mr. Braden found himself driving homeward. The rain
had turned the road into mud, and was still coming down. It drove though
the lap-robe, wetted his knees and trickled down the back of his neck.
He was thoroughly uncomfortable. Nevertheless he reflected that
Providence in its inscrutable