touch with events transpiring in New York. He had hardly shown himself
in the lobby when a page summoned him to the telephone.

It was Dorothy, her voice faint with fright.

"It's you," she cried--"it's you! Have you learned anything about
mother? We haven't any news--nothing at all. Mr. Brencherly and the
doctor tell me that everything's being done. But I'm almost wild--and
listen; something awful has happened. It's your friend, Mr. Mahr,
Teddy's father--he's been murdered!"

"What!" exclaimed Gard, thankful that she could not see his face.

"Yes, yes," she continued, "murdered in his own room--they found him
this morning--they say you were the last person to see him before it was
done. Oh, Mr. Gard, aren't you coming home soon? It seems as if terrible
things happen all the time--and I'm frightened. Please, come back!"

The voice choked in a sob, and her hearer longed to take her in his arms
and comfort her, shield her from the terrible possibilities that loomed
big on their horizon.

"My darling little girl, I'm coming, just as fast as I can. I wouldn't
be here, leaving you to face this anxiety alone, if I could possibly
help it--you know that, dear," he pleaded. "I've one more important,
unavoidable interview; then my car couples on to the first express. Give
Teddy all my sympathy. I can hardly realize what you say. Why, I saw him
only last night just before I took the train. Keep up your courage, and
don't be frightened."