held himself in check.

"Some guardian angel must have hovered near," was all he permitted
himself to reply, but she fathomed the depth of his meaning.

"I hope some good spirit may continue to be helpful--to us both," she
said. "What are you going to do next?"

"Take you back to New York," said Garrison. "I must have you near.
But, while I think of it, please answer one thing more. How did it
happen that your uncle's life was insured for that inventor in
Hickwood, Charles Scott?"

"They were lifelong friends," said Dorothy. "They began as boys
together. Uncle John was saved by this Mr. Scott, when he was
twenty-one--his life was saved, I mean. And he was very much in love
with Mr. Scott's sister. But something occurred, I hardly know what.
The Scotts never had much money, and they lost the little they had.
Miss Scott was very shamefully treated, I believe, by some other friend
in the group, and she died before she was thirty--I've heard as a
result of some great unhappiness.

"Uncle and Mr. Scott were always friends, though they drifted apart to
some extent. Mr. Scott became an inventor, and spent all his poor
wife's money, and also funds that Uncle John supplied, on his
inventions. The insurance was Uncle John's last plan for befriending
his old-time companion. There was no one else to make it in favor of,
for of course the estate would take care of the heirs that he wished to
remember. Does that answer your question?"

"Perfectly," said Garrison. "I think if you'll make ready we will
start. Is there any particular place in New York where you prefer to
stay?"

"No. I'd rather leave that to you."

"By the way," he said, his mind recurring to the motor-car incident and
all that had followed, "did you know that when you deserted me so
abruptly on the bridge, the chauffeur also disappeared--and left me
with the auto on my hands?"

"Why, no!" she said. "What could it mean?"

"It seems to have been a stolen car," he answered. "It was left in
charge of a strange young woman, too poor to own it--left her by a
friend. She found it in my possession and accepted my explanation as
to how it was I chanced to have it in my care. She is living in a
house near Washington Square."

"How very strange!" said Dorothy, who had suddenly conceived some queer
feminine thought. "If the house near Washington Square is nice,
perhaps you might take me there. But tell me all about it!"

What could be actuating