man," smiled the stranger. "What the
devil was the trouble?"

"This, I suppose," answered Wilson, as soon as he had caught his
breath, lifting a corner of the elaborate gown. "And this," touching
the bandages on his head.

"But what in thunder did they chase you for?"

"I guess they thought I was crazy--or drunk."

"Well, it wasn't fair sport at a hundred to one. Where shall I land
you?"

Wilson pondered a second. He would only lose time if he got out and
attempted again to find the house in that rig.

"If--if I could only get some clothes."

"Where's your hotel or home? Take you anywhere you say."

"I haven't either a home or a hotel," answered Wilson, deliberately.
"And these are all the clothes I have in the world."

"Is that a dream?"

"It is the truth."

"But how----" exclaimed the other.

"I can't tell you now how it came about, but it is the truth that I am
without a cent, and that this is my entire wardrobe."

"Where did you come from this morning?" asked the other, still
incredulous.

"From the hospital."

Wilson hesitated just a second; he knew that in asking anything
further he ran the risk of being mistaken for a charlatan, but this
seemed now his only chance of getting back to her. They were speeding
out through the Fenway, but the driver had now slowed down to await
further orders. The man would drop him anywhere he said, but even
supposing he brought him back to the vicinity of the house, he could
not possibly escape observation long enough to locate that little door
in the rear--the only clue he had to identification of the house. If
ever a man's exterior gave promise of generous help, the features of
this fellow by his side did. He was of about his own age, smooth
shaven, with a frank, open face that gave him a clean and wholesome
appearance. He had the lithe frame and red cheeks of an athlete in
training--his eyes clear as night air, his teeth white as a hound's.
But it was a trick of the eyes which decided Wilson--a bright
eagerness tinged with humor and something of dreams, which suggested
that he himself was alert for just such adventures as this in which
Wilson found himself. He glanced up and found the other studying him
curiously as though trying to decide for himself just what sort of a
fellow he had rescued.

"I don't blame you for being suspicious," began Wilson, "but I've told
you only the truth. Furthermore, I've done nothing any decent fellow
wouldn't do. The police h