d sure make a hit."

This part of his trap set, Conward awaited a suitable opportunity to
spring it. In the meantime he took Mrs. Hardy partially into his
confidence. He allowed her to believe, however, that Elden's habits
would stand correction, and he had merely arranged to trap him in one
of his favorite haunts. She was very much shocked, and thought it was
very dreadful, but of course we must save Irene. Mr. Conward was very
clever. That's what came of being a man of experience,--and judgment,
Mr. Conward, and some knowledge of the world.

But concerning another part of his programme Conward was even less
frank with Mrs. Hardy. He was clever enough to know that he must
observe certain limitations.

At length all his plans appeared to be complete. The city was in a
tumult of excitement over the war, but for Conward a deeper interest
centred in the plot he was hatching under the unsuspecting noses of
Irene and Elden. If he could trap Dave the rest would be easy. If he
failed in this he had another plan to give failure at least the
appearance of success. The fact that the nation was now at war
probably had an influence in speeding up the plot. Everything was
under high tension; powerful currents of thought were bearing the
masses along unaccustomed channels; society itself was in a state of
flux. If he were to strike at all let the blow fall at once.

On this early August night he ascertained that Dave was working alone
in his office. Then he called a number on a telephone.

"This is the night," he explained. "You will find him alone in his
office. I will be waiting to hear from you at----"--he quoted Mrs.
Hardy's telephone number. Then he drove his car to the Hardy home,
exchanged a few words with Irene, and sat down to a hand of cribbage
with her mother.

Poring over his correspondence, Dave tried to abstract his mind from
the tumultuous doings of these last days. Office organization had been
paralyzed; stenographers and clerks were incapable with excitement. It
was as though some great excursion had been announced; something
wonderful and novel, which divorced the interest from the dull routine
of business. And Dave, with his ear cocked for the cry of the latest
extra, spent the evening hours in a valiant effort at concentration.

Suddenly he heard a knock at the door; not a business man's knock; not
an office girl's knock; a hesitating, timid, apologetic knock.

"Come in," he called. No