is apartment, but the fox, scenting
hounds, had broken covert.

"The Senator will be in Washington next week," said the discreet
Phillips. "At present, sir, he is not in town."

Carshaw made no further inquiry; he knew it was useless. In the morning
another telegram: "No news!"

He set his teeth, and smilingly agreed to accompany his mother to the
lawyers'. She came away in tears. Those serious men strongly approved of
her son's project.

"Rex has all his father's grit," said the senior partner. "In a little
time you will be convinced that he is acting rightly."

"I shall be dead!" she snapped.

The lawyer lifted his hands with a deprecating smile. "You have no
secrets from me, Mrs. Carshaw," he said. "You are ten years my junior,
and insurance actuaries give women longer lives than men when they have
attained a certain age."

Carshaw visited Helen Tower. She was fluttered. By note he had asked for
a _tete-a-tete_ interview. But his first words undeceived her.

"Where is Meiklejohn?" he asked.

"Do you mean Senator Meiklejohn?" she corrected him.

"Yes; the man who acted in collusion with you in kidnapping my intended
wife."

"How dare you--"

"Sit down, Helen; no heroics, please. Or perhaps you would prefer that
Ronald should be present?"

"This tone, Rex--to me!" She was crimson with surprise.

"You are right: it is better that Tower should not be here. He might get
a worse _douche_ than his plunge into the river. Now, about Meiklejohn?
Why did he conspire with you and my mother to carry off Winifred
Bartlett?"

"I--don't know."

"Surely there was some motive?"

"You are speaking in enigmas. I heard of the girl from you. I have never
seen her. If your mother interfered, it was for your good."

He smiled cynically. The cold, far-away look in his eyes was bitter to
her soul, yet he had never looked so handsome, so distinguished, as in
this moment when he was ruthlessly telling her that another woman
absorbed him utterly.

"What hold has Meiklejohn over you?" he went on.

She simulated tears. "You have no right to address me in that manner,"
she protested.

"There is a guilty bond somewhere, and I shall find it out," he said
coldly. "My mother was your catspaw. You, Helen, may have been spiteful,
but Meiklejohn--that sleek and smug politician--I cannot understand him.
The story went that owing to an accidental likeness to Meiklejohn your
husband was nearly killed. His assailant was a man name