d in an agony of indecision, the door burst open. The
frail, white-haired figure of Professor Duchard, Elaine's father,
stumbled into the room. His eyes were sleep-fogged, and spindly,
pajama-clad legs showed below the dressing gown he had thrown about his
thin shoulders.

"What is it? What has happened?" he mumbled. Even in his dazed state, he
pronounced every syllable. There were no slurrings nor contractions in
Professor Duchard's punctilious vocabulary.

"Elaine's fainted."

"Then carry her to her room. I shall get smelling salts from the
medicine cabinet."

Turning, the professor scurried away. Mark followed, Elaine's soft body
still limp and yielding in his arms. Ascending the stairs to her room,
he laid her tenderly on the bed. Even as he did so, the girl's father
hurried to his side, a dark green bottle in his hand. The old man was
more fully awake now, and he looked down at his daughter with keen,
intelligent eyes. Although outwardly he appeared calm, there was a
little flicker of worry deep within those sharp blue optics.

"This should revive her!" he announced, waving the bottle. Pulling out
the glass stopper, he held the container close under the girl's nose.

Elaine drew a little breath. The fumes swirled into her nostrils. She
choked. Jerked spasmodically.

And slumped back, still unconscious!

Again the professor applied the carbonate of ammonium.

Again the results were the same.

The old man straightened.

"I do not like this," he clipped. "You had better tell me just what
happened."

Mark shifted nervously under the scrutiny of the sharp blue eyes.

"Start at the beginning," the professor commanded. "I want to know from
exactly what this 'fainting spell' resulted."

* * * * *

The younger man nodded slowly.

"It all began after you went to bed," he explained. "I said good-night
to Elaine, then decided to step outside and have a smoke before I turned
in myself.

"When I got upstairs, Elaine opened her door. She already was
undressed--had on the negligee she's wearing now. She said she wasn't
sleepy, and that she'd decided to come back down for another look at the
presents. So I came along...."

Carefully, yet concisely, Mark outlined the events which had preceded
the girl's collapse. When he had finished, Professor Duchard looked even
more worried than before.

"I do not like what you tell me," he informed the younger man. "I
believe this is a case