say you're not doing it for love."

Bassett surveyed him appraisingly.

"You wouldn't understand my motives if I told you. As a matter of fact,
he doesn't want the money."

Gregory sneered.

"Don't kid yourself," he said. "However, as a matter of fact I don't
think he'll take it. It might cost too much. Where is he? Shooting pills
again?"

"You'll see him in about five minutes."

If the news was a surprise Gregory gave no evidence of it, except to
comment:

"You're a capable person, aren't you? I'll bet you could tune a piano if
you were put to it."

He carried the situation well, the reporter had to admit; the only
evidence he gave of strain was that the hands with which he lighted a
cigarette were unsteady. He surveyed the obscure hotel at which the cab
stopped with a sneering smile, and settled his collar as he looked it
over.

"Not advertising to the world that you're in town, I see."

"We'll do that, just as soon as we're ready. Don't worry."

The laugh he gave at that struck unpleasantly on Bassett's ears. But
inside the building he lost some of his jauntiness. "Queer place to find
Judson Clark," he said once.

And again:

"You'd better watch him when I go in. He may bite me."

To which Bassett grimly returned: "He's probably rather particular what
he bites."

He was uneasily conscious that Gregory, while nervous and tense, was
carrying the situation with a certain assurance. If he was acting it was
very good acting. And that opinion was strengthened when he threw open
the door and Gregory advanced into the room.

"Well, Clark," he said, coolly. "I guess you didn't expect to see me,
did you?"

He made no offer to shake hands as Dick turned from the window, nor
did Dick make any overtures. But there was no enmity at first in either
face; Gregory was easy and assured, Dick grave, and, Bassett thought,
slightly impatient. From that night in his apartment the reporter had
realized that he was constantly fighting a sort of passive resistance in
Dick, a determination not at any cost to involve Beverly. Behind that,
too, he felt that still another battle was going on, one at which he
could only guess, but which made Dick somber at times and grimly quiet
always.

"I meant to look you up," was his reply to Gregory's nonchalant
greeting.

"Well, your friend here did that for you," Gregory said, and smiled
across at Bassett. "He has his own methods, and I'll say they're
effectual."

He took off