it. But you look in cellar--yes! They make
tunnel--yes!" He hung up the receiver and took her hand. "Now we go
home," he said.

They passed swiftly out, dropping payment--into a sleepy, unseeing
palm--and crossing the square to the car that should carry them home.
There were no delays now--only swift-running wheels... a few jolts and
stops--and they were out again, beneath the stars, hurrying along the
great breakwater of the lake--hurrying home.... The big, red-brown house
thrust itself up--its gables reaching to thin blackness--and, suddenly,
as they looked, it was touched lightly, as with a great finger, and the
dawn glowed mistily up the walls.

They crossed swiftly and mounted the steps, between the lions, the
child's feet stumbling a little as they went, but Achilles's hand held
fast and his touch on the bell summoned hurrying feet... there was a
fumbling at the chains--a swift, cautious creak, and the door swung
back. "Who is it?" said a voice that peered out. The dawn touched his
face grotesquely.

"It's me!" said the child. "It's Betty Harris, Conner."

The man's face fell back. Then he darted forward and glared at the
child--through the mysterious, dawning light--on the dark, tender face
and the little lip that trembled--looking up--"My God!" he said. He had
darted from them.

The door was open wide and the two glided in silently, and stood in the
emptiness. Achilles led the child to a great divan across the hall and
placed her beside him--her little feet were crossed in the rough shoes
and her hands hung listless.

Behind a velvet curtain, the butler's voice called frantic words--a
telephone bell rang sharply and whirred and rang a long fierce call and
the butler's voice took it up and flung it back--"Yes, sir. She's
here! Yes, sir--that's what I said--she's a-settin' here, sir--on the
sofa--with the furriner--yes, sir!" He put his head around the velvet
curtain. "Will you speak to your father, Miss?"

His awe-struck hand held the receiver and he helped the strange, little
figure to its seat in front of the 'phone. She put the tube to her lips.
"Hallo, Daddy. Yes, it's Betty.... Mr. Achilles brought me, father....
Yes--yes--your little Betty--yes--and I'm all ri-i-ght...." The receiver
dropped from her fingers. She had buried her face in her arms and was
sobbing softly.

XXXVII

THE BIG BED

Achilles sprang forward. "She's all right, Mr. Harris--all right!" His
hand dropped to the trembli