"See!" said Dunham. "I believe those are the men who were hovering around
the house last night."

The girl leaned forward to look, and then drew back with an exclamation of
horror as the carriage started.

"Oh, that man is my cousin Richard," she cried.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and a look of determination settled into his
face.

"Perfectly," she answered, looking out again. "Do you suppose he has seen
me?"

"I suppose he has, but we'll soon turn the tables." He leaned out and
spoke a word to the driver, who drew up around the next corner in front of
a telephone pay-station.

"Come with me for just a minute, dear. I'll telephone to a detective
bureau where they know me and have that man watched. He is unsafe to have
at large." He helped her out and drew her arm firmly within his own.
"Don't be afraid any more. I will take care of you."

He telephoned a careful description of the two men and their whereabouts,
and before he had hung up the receiver a man had started post-haste for
the Y.W.C.A. Building.

Then Tryon Dunham put the girl tenderly into the carriage, and to divert
her attention he opened the box of flowers and put a great sheaf of white
roses and lilies-of-the-valley into the little gloved hands. Then, taking