to the
elevator. She still looked pale and distressed.

"Fourteenth floor. No. 633!" she murmured.

They left the elevator at the fourteenth floor. No sooner had the lift
disappeared than Edith collapsed on the floor. He looked round for a
friend in need, but the corridor was deserted. The door near at hand was
numbered 630. So 633 must be near by! He stooped and picked up the still
figure as though she were a child. In half a dozen strides he was at 633.
The door was unlocked, so he pushed it open and entered. He found the
electric-light switch, and then placed his burden gently on the bed. He
was drawing his arm from under her when she opened her eyes.

"Water!"

He searched and found a water decanter and a glass. She seemed too weak to
sit up, so he helped her by placing one arm under her head. She sipped the
liquid and looked into his eyes. Then to his utter amazement she clasped
both her arms round his neck and pulled his face close to hers.

"Hell!" he muttered.

"I love you!" she said. "Don't you see I----"

"Say, you're bad!" he said. "Drink some more water----"

He strove to free himself, but finding he could only do so by hurting her,
refrained, and tried to bring her to her senses. Undoubtedly she had
suddenly gone mad! The ingenuous Jim could find no other solution. He was
telling her to "be a good kid" and not "to get fresh," when the door
opened and slammed. He looked round to find a tall dark man, in evening
dress, surveying him fiercely.

"Good-evening," said the stranger cuttingly. Jim broke away and faced the
latter.

"Who in hell are you?"

"Ask her."

Jim turned to Edith. She seemed strangely perturbed.

"My--my husband!"

"Wal, I'm glad to meet you," said Jim coolly. "Your wife had a fit or
something, so I jest brought her along. I guess I'll be mushing."

To his amazement the man barred his path.

"A nice story," he said.

The eyes of Colorado Jim narrowed to the merest slits. He turned to the
woman.

"Tell him!" he growled.

She shrunk before those terrible eyes of his, and gripped the pillow with
nerveless hands. Her lips opened but she said nothing. Jim started, and
then caught her by the shoulder.

"Did you git me? He's wanting to know why I'm here. Tell him."

"How can I tell him?" she wailed.

The man laughed.

"You needn't waste breath. So this is how Mr. James Conlan spends his
time. It'll make a fine story...."

Jim's brain was working fast; but he was slo