't know. Do you wish it particularly? I have just seen Quarrier
and Harrington. I can't quite understand Quarrier's attitude. There's
a certain hint of defiance about it. Harrington is all caved in. He is
ready to thank us for any mercies. But Quarrier--there's something I
don't fancy, don't exactly understand about his attitude. He's like a
dangerous man whom you've searched for concealed weapons, and who knows
you've overlooked the knife up his sleeve. That's why I've expected
to spend a quiet evening, studying up the matter and examining every
loophole."

"You've got to dine somewhere," said Siward. "If you could fix it to
dine with us--But I won't urge you."

"All right. I don't know why I shouldn't. I don't know why I feel this
way about things. I--I rather felt--you'll laugh, Siward!--that somehow
I'd better not go out of my own house to-night; that I was safer, better
off in my own house, studying this Quarrier matter out. I'm tired, I
suppose; and this man Quarrier has come close to worrying me. But it's
all right, of course, if you wish it. You know I haven't any nerves."

"If you are tired--" began Siward.

"No, no, I'm not. I'll go. Will you say that we'll stop for them at
seven? Really, it's all right, Siward."

"I don't want to urge you," repeated Siward.

"You're not. I'll go. But--wait one moment tell me, did Quarrier know
that Mrs. Mortimer was to stop with Miss Landis?"

"Wait a moment. Hold the wire."

He opened the door of the booth and saw Sylvia waiting for him, seated
by the operator's desk. She rose at once when she saw he wished to speak
with her.

"Tell me something," he said in a low voice; "did Mr. Quarrier know that
Leila was to stay overnight with you?"

"Yes," she answered quietly, surprised. "Why?"

Siward nodded vaguely, closed the door again, and said to Plank:

"Yes, Quarrier knows it. Do you think he'll be there to-night? I don't
suppose Miss Landis and Mrs. Mortimer know he is in town."

Plank's troubled voice came back over the wire: "I don't know. I don't
know what to think. I suppose I'm a little, just a trifle, overworked.
Somebody once said that I had one nerve in me somewhere, and Quarrier's
probably found it; that's all."

"If you think it better not to come--"

"I'll come. I'll stop for you in the motor. Don't worry, old fellow!
And--take your fighting chance! Good-bye!"

Siward, absorbed in his own thoughts, rose and walked slowly out of the
booth, utterly