l
you, but it will be something which will definitely settle for me this
matter of identity. Does this plan look sufficiently harmless to meet
with your approval?"

"Yes, but looks cannot always be trusted. I must know just what you mean
to do. I will leave nothing to a mind and hand I do not trust any more
fully than I do yours. You are too eager for Georgian's money; too little
interested in herself; _and you are too sly in your ways_. I overlooked
this when you had the excuse of a possible distrust of myself. But now
that your confidence is restored in me, now that you recognize the fact
that I stand outside of this whole puzzling affair and have no other wish
than to know the truth about it and do my duty to all parties concerned,
secrecy on your part means more than I care to state. If you persist in
it I shall lend myself to nothing that you propose, but wait for time to
substantiate her claim or prove its entire falsity."

"You will!"

The words rang out involuntarily. It almost seemed as if the man would
spring with them straight at the other's throat. But he controlled
himself, and smiling bitterly, added:

"I know the marks of human struggle. I have read countenances from my
birth. I've had to, and only one has baffled me--_hers_. But we are going
to read that too and very soon. We are going to learn, you and I, what
lies behind that innocent manner and her rude, uncultivated ways. We are
going to sound that deafness. I say _we_," he impressively concluded,
"because I have reconsidered my first impulse and now propose to allow
you to participate openly, and without the secrecy you object to, in all
that remains to be done to make our contemplated test a success. Will
that please you? May I count on you now?"

"Yes," replied Ransom, returning to his old monosyllable.

"Very well, then, see if you can make a scrawl like this."

Pulling a piece of red chalk from his pocket, he drew a figure of a
somewhat unusual character on the bare top of the table between them;
then he handed the chalk over to Ransom, who received it with a stare of
wonder not unmixed with suspicion.

"I'm not an adept at drawing," said he, but made his attempt,
notwithstanding, and evidently to Hazen's satisfaction.

"You'll do," said he. "That's a mystic symbol once used by Georgian
and myself in place of our names in all mutual correspondence, and
on the leaves of our school-books and at the end of our exercises. It
meant nothing