gly. That my father's fortune is gone means
nothing to me now. Only give me back Ramon alive and well, and I shall
ask no more!"

"I hope to be able to do that speedily," Blaine returned. "As I told
you over the telephone, I have positive proof that he is alive, and a
definite clue as to his whereabouts. You must ask me nothing further
now--only try to find faith in your heart for just a few days, perhaps
hours, longer. You 'phoned to Mrs. Hamilton, as I suggested?"

"Yes. She demurred at first, dreading the notoriety, and not--not
appearing to believe in your ability as I do, but I simply refused to
listen to her objections. Mr. Carlis called me up shortly afterward,
and wanted to know if I would be able to receive him this afternoon,
on a matter connected with my finances, but I told him I had retained
you to search for Ramon, and was expecting you at any moment. He
seemed greatly astonished, and warned me of the--he called it
'useless'--expense. He begged me not to be impatient, to wait until I
had time to think the matter over and consult himself and Mr. Mallowe,
saying that they were both doing all that could be done to locate
Ramon, and Mr. Rockamore was, also, but I told him it was too late,
that you were on your way here."

"That was right. I am glad you told him. The fact that you have
retained me to search for Mr. Hamilton will appear as a scoop in every
evening paper which he controls, now, and the more publicity given to
it, the better. You told me over the 'phone that Mr. Rockamore calls
upon you every day?"

"Yes. I try to be cordial to him, but for some reason which I can't
explain I dislike him more than either of the others. I don't know why
he comes so often, for he says very little, only sits and stares at
that chair--the chair in which my father died--until I feel that I
should like to scream. It seems to exert the same strange, uncanny
influence over him as it does over me--that chair. More than once,
when he has been announced, I have entered to find him standing close
beside it, looking down at it as if my father were seated there once
more and he was talking to him, I don't in the least know why, but the
thought seems to prey on my mind--perhaps because the chair fascinates
me, too, in a queer way that is half repulsion."

"You are morbid, Miss Lawton--you must not allow such fancies to grow,
or they will soon take possession of you, in your weakened state, and
become an obsession. Tell me,