Gard sat silent. He was reasoning out the motive of Mahr's move. Did
Mrs. Marteen still retain evidence against him which he was anxious to
obtain during her absence? It seemed the obvious conclusion, and yet
there was the possibility that Mahr contemplated vengeance, that in the
safe he hoped to obtain evidence against Mrs. Marteen herself that would
put her into his hands. On the whole, that seemed the most likely
explanation, and one that offered such possibilities that he ground his
teeth. He was roused from his reverie by Brencherly's hesitating voice.

"I think, Mr. Gard, I'd better go at once. I want to get a trailer after
Balling, and if I'm a good guesser, we haven't any time to lose."

"You're right; go on. I was thinking what precautions had best be taken
at Mrs. Marteen's home. I'll plan that--you do the rest. Good-by."

Brencherly sidled to the door, bowed and disappeared.

The telephone bell on the table rang sharply. Gard took down the
receiver absently, but the voice that trembled over the wire startled
him like an electric shock. It was Dorothy's, but changed almost beyond
recognition, a frightened, uncertain little treble.

"Is this Mr. Gard?" A sigh of relief greeted his affirmative. "Please,
please, Mr. Gard, can I see you right away?"

"Where are you, Dorothy? Of course; I'm at your service always. What is
it?" he asked, conscious that his own voice betrayed his agitation.

"I'm downstairs, in the building. You don't mind, do you?"