A sudden glow lighted Vic's stern face, and there was no savage
gleam in his eyes now.

"Is Elinor well enough to come out tomorrow?"

He had been caught unawares. Trench stared at him deliberately.

"Say, Victor Burleigh." He spoke slowly. "Don't do it!
DON'T DO IT! It will kill a man like you to get in love.
Lord pity you! and"--more slowly still--"Lord pity the fool girl
who can't see the solid gold in the rough old nugget you are."

"What's the rest of your news?" Vic asked.

"I gave the best first. Coach tells me ab-so-lute-lee,
you are our only hope. The hope of Sunrise, tomorrow.
You've got the beef, the wind, the speed, the head, and the will.
Oh, you angel child!"

"The coach is clever," Vic said carelessly.

"Burleigh, here's the rub as well as the Rub-i-con. Dennie Saxon's wise,
and she tells me--on the side; inside, not outside--that your absent
marks on Burgess' map are going to cut you out at the last minute.
Don't let Burgess do that, Vic, if you have to kill him.
Couldn't we kidnap him and drop him into the whirlpool?
Old Lagonda's interest is about due. Dennie just stood her ground today
like a cherub, and asked the Hahvahd Univusity man right out about it.
I don't know how she got the hint, only she's in all the offices and
the library out of hours, you know, and when the slim one from Boston,