He turned away without reply, and went to his room, where he sat for
long sunk in a stupor of misery. She had found out the truth, before
he could tell her. She knew him for what he was, knew his despicable
errand in ingratiating himself into her friendship and that of her
father. She believed that the real love he had professed for her had
been all a mere part of the game he was playing, and now she had gone
away forever! He would never see her again!

"By God, no!" he cried aloud to himself, in the bitterness of his
sorrow. "I will find her again, if I search the ends of the earth. She
shall know the truth!"

CHAPTER XIV

IN THE OPEN

Guy Morrow's resolve to find Emily Brunell at all costs, stirred him
from the apathy of despair into which he had fallen, and roused him to
instant action. Leaving the house, he went to the nearest telephone
pay station, where he could converse in comparative privacy, and
called up Henry Blaine's office, only to discover that the master
detective had departed upon some mission of his own, was not expected
to return until the following morning, and had left no instructions
for him.

This unanticipated set-back left Morrow without definite resource. As
a forlorn hope he telephoned to the Anita Lawton Club, only to learn
that Miss Brunell had sent in her resignation as secretary early that
morning, but told nothing of her future plans, except that she was
leaving town for an indefinite period.

There was nothing more to be learned by another examination of the
dismantled shop, and the young operative turned his steps reluctantly
homeward. A sudden suspicion had formed itself in his mind that Blaine
himself, and not the police, had been responsible for the raid on the
forger's little establishment--that Blaine had done this without
taking him into his confidence and was now purposely keeping out of
his way.

When the early winter dusk came, Guy could endure it no longer, but
left the house. Drawn irresistibly by his thoughts, he crossed the
road again, and entering the Brunells' gate, he strolled around the
deserted cottage, to the back. At the kitchen door a faint, piteous
sound made him pause. It was an insistent, wailing cry from within,
the disconsolate meowing of a frightened, lonely kitten.

Caliban had been left behind, forgotten! Emily's panic and haste must
have been great indeed to cause her to forsake the pet she had so
tenderly loved! Much as he detested the