is chair he listened with unsmiling
attention as Philip entered the billiard room with a laughing shot of
abuse for Dick Sherrill which aroused an immediate uproar of welcome.

Watching the Baron's narrowed eyes, one might have wondered greatly.
For Baron Tregar looked very tired and grim. At length, having smoked
his cigar quite to the end, he went up to his room and summoned Themar.

"Ah, Themar!" said he softly, and laughed with peculiar relish.

Themar shifted restlessly.

"Excellency," he began, uncomfortably aware of unpleasant mockery in
his chief's keen eyes.

The Baron matched the tips of his powerful fingers and studied them
intently.

"Themar," said he acidly, "within a fortnight I have lost a car whose
burned remains were found several miles from here, and a secretary
whose friendship and invaluable service I prize more highly than your
life. I feel that you can to some extent explain both of these
disasters."

"Excellency knows," reminded Themar glibly, "that the car was stolen
from the Sherrill garage."

"I have merely supposed so," corrected the Baron coldly. And rising he
inspected the curious scars upon his valet's throat with interest.
"Odd!" he purred, "that an aeroplane may simulate the marks of tearing
fingers." Swept by a sudden gust of terrible anger, he gripped
Themar's shoulders and shook him until the valet's face was dark with
fear.

"Why," hissed the Baron, "did you lie? Why did you go to the Westfall
camp and attack Poynter? Why did you swear these scars came from a
disastrous flight in a stolen aeroplane? Why have you been spying upon
Miss Westfall when I expressly forbade it?"

"Excellency," choked Themar, horrified by the Baron's unprecedented
display of passion, "there was a blunder--I dared not tell."

"Who blundered?" thundered his chief.

"I. Granberry, I thought, was to go to his cousin's camp," panted
Themar quaking. "I heard Sherrill telephone--later he told some men--"

"You took the car--" prompted the Baron icily.

"I--I did not know it was Poynter until he fell," urged Themar
trembling. "Granberry and he are similar in build."

"Who attempted to kill Miss Westfall?" blazed the Baron, shaking his
valet into chattering subjection.

"Excellency, I know not!" protested Themar swallowing painfully.
"There was still another man--he dashed ahead and stole the car."

After all, reflected the Baron wryly, in this damnable muddle he must
still use Themar.