ke that, Johnson; it bothers me."

"But if my wife ever hears of it----"

"She never will," said Anthony, without great concern, "unless you have
Hitchin for dinner some night and ask him to tell about it."

"And Wilkins--he heard it, too!"

"Well, I shall instruct Wilkins not to mention it, later on," Anthony
sighed. "Now quiet down, will you, and let us think how----"

"Have you decided how to get me out of here?" Mary asked brightly,
entering without a sound.

Anthony stayed the bitter words that were in his very throat.

"We have been accused of murdering David Prentiss!" he said.

"Really?"

"Very really indeed!"

"Isn't that funny?" Mary laughed. "Isn't it perfectly ridiculous?"

"It's a scream!" said Johnson Boller. "About the time we both get
pinched it may be up to you to----"

"Tell the truth?" Mary said quickly.

"Just that!"

"I'll never do it!" the girl cried passionately. "No! Not even to save
both of you! I'm not here through any fault of my own, and--and--why, a
man who could suggest such a thing----"

"He's not suggesting it; he's just excited," Anthony said miserably,
"Now, suppose we try, just once more, to sit down sanely and devise the
way of getting you safely home, Miss Mary?"

"And soon!" said the girl, somewhat feverishly. "If I could have gotten
home while it was dark Felice could have smuggled me in and--and lied
about it, if necessary. But it isn't night any longer; it's nine o'clock
or past nine, and----"

She said no more. Lips parted, and eyes, all in an instant, thoroughly
horrified, she stood and listened; and from the door of Anthony's
apartment a thumping sounded once more and a voice said:

"Hurry up! Open that door!"

"Robert again!" Mary gasped.

"Is that possible?" Anthony gasped, bouncing to his feet.

It was not only possible. It was the solid fact, for Wilkins, muttering
as he fumbled at the latch, was mentioning Mr. Vining's name and bidding
him be patient for an instant--and Mary, with a little scream, had made
another of her projectile disappearances down the corridor--and into the
room came Robert Vining!

He was far from being the same collected young man. His whole person
seemed to have been towsled by some overwhelming excitement. His eyes
belonged in the head of a madman, and his hands waved irresponsibly as
he rushed at Anthony Fry and clutched his coat and panted:

"Fry! You'll have to help me!"

"Help you--how?"

"You know more people