duction, and crimes infinitely worse than these. He may have beguiled
women, but at least his worst enemy would never suppose that he had
trafficked in them. Barbara's model is all the things that you can
imagine. And all of them are written in his horrible face. To see them
together, friendly, reparteeing, chummy, would turn your
stomach--Barbara so exquisite and high-born, and the man, his eyes full
of evil fires, sitting like a great toad on the model's chair. And at
that--good God, you might stand it, if he was a whole man! But he isn't.
It's horrible! He has no legs--and you want to stamp on him till
he's dead."

Dr. Ferris had turned white as a sheet. "To me," he said quietly, "that
is the most horrible form of mutilation. I can't tell you why. It is so.
And you will believe that in my practice I have encountered all sorts.
But who is he?"

"He's a man named Blizzard--he passes for a beggar, grinds an organ,
sells shoe-laces and that sort of thing. As a matter of fact, he's very
well off, if not rich. Why don't you visit Barbara's studio to-morrow,
look things over, and put a stop to it? You can say things to Barbara
that I can't, that no young man can say to a girl. Go as far as you
like. Whatever you tell her about him will be true even if you can't
prove it. You can make her see what thin ice she's skating on. Or if you
can't nobody can."

"I'll go to the studio to-morrow," said the surgeon. "I am very much
disturbed by what you have told me: the more so because as a physician
I have learned how many impossible things are true. Have you told me all
you wish to? Or is there more? Do you think," he spoke very steadily,
"that Barbara _cares_ for this beast? Such things happen in the world,
I know."

"God forbid," said Allen, "but I think he has a sort of fascination for
her, and that she doesn't realize it. You'll let your visit appear
casual and accidental, won't you? You won't let Barbara suspect that I
had anything to do with it?"

Dr. Ferris promised, and the two parted with mutual good-will; but
neither the next morning, nor the morning after that, was Dr. Ferris at
liberty to pay a visit to Barbara in her studio. Nominally retired from
active practice, and devoting whatever of life should remain to surgical
experimentation and theory, the sudden and acute jeopardy of an old
friend caused him to put all other considerations aside for the time
being, and once more to don the white harness of his professi