toward the end.



CHAPTER XXXIV

_THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE_

Ridgeway had been directed to the home of Mr. Henry Coleman. He was
never able to describe his emotions as he drove through the streets
toward that most important place in all the world at that hour. The cab
drew up in front of the rather pretentious home and he stepped forth,
dazed and uncertain, his knees stiff, his eyes set. Had some one shouted
"Run!" he would have fled with his resolution.

Every window in the home seemed to present Grace Vernon's glad face to
his misty eyes; she was in there somewhere, he knew, waiting as she had
been waiting for a whole year.

Slowly he mounted the steps and stood before the screen door. After what
seemed an hour of deliberation, during which he sought to resurrect the
courage that had died, he timidly tapped on the casement with his
knuckles. The sound could not have been heard ten feet, yet to him it
was loud enough to wake people blocks away. There was no response and
his heart, in its cowardice, took a hopeful bound. No one at home! He
turned to leave the place, fearing that some one might appear to admit
him before he could retreat. At the top of the steps he paused,
reasoning that if no one was at home he could at least rap again. His
conscience would be easier for the extra effort. He rapped once more,
quite boldly. A man appeared in the doorway so suddenly that he caught