, and the rest of the hundred little services which must be rendered
the man with his right arm in a sling.

"I may not look a subject for travel, Miss Mathewson," he announced with
a brilliant smile, appearing once more in the outer office, where the
bill-copying was just coming to a finish, "but I'm off, nevertheless.
Thank you for your struggle with my schoolboy composition. We won't need
to finish it. I'm--Oh, thunder!"

It was the office bell. Miss Mathewson answered it. Burns, prepared to
deny himself to all ordinary petitioners, saw the man's face and stopped
to listen. It was a rough-looking fellow who told him his brief story,
but the hearer listened with attention and his face became grave. He
turned to Miss Mathewson.

"Call Johnny Caruthers and the Imp, please," he directed. "Telephone
the Pullman ticket office and change my berth reservation from the
ten-thirty to the one o'clock train."

He went out with the man, and Miss Mathewson heard him say: "You walked
in, Joe? You can ride back with us on the running-board."

Ten minutes after he had gone Chester came again. He found Miss
Mathewson reading by the office droplight. On the desk stood a
travelling bag; beside it lay a light overcoat, not the sort that Red
Pepper was accustomed to wear in the car, a dress overcoat with a silk
lining. On it reposed a that and a pair of gloves rolled into a ball,
man fashion. Chester regarded with interest these unmistakable signs of
intended travel.

"Doctor Burns going out of town?" he inquired casually. It must be
admitted that he had scented action of some sort on the wind which
had taken his friend from his company at the conclusion of the walk.
Ordinarily, Burns would have gone into Chester's den and settled down
for an hour of talk before bedtime.

"I believe so," Miss Mathewson replied in the noncommittal manner of the
professional man's confidential assistant. "But he has gone out for a
call now."

"Back soon?"

"I don't know, Mr. Chester."

"Did he go in the Imp?"

"Yes."

"Country call, probably--they're the ones that bother a man at night as
long as he does country work. I've often told Doctor Burns it was time
he gave up this no-'count rural practice. Well, do you know what time
his train goes?"

"After midnight, some time." Miss Mathewson knew that Mr. Chester was
Doctor Burns's close friend, but she was too accustomed to keep, her
lips closed over her employers affairs to give information,