been so dark, that she might see his face. "Tell me!" she said again.

But he did not tell her. "Don't be afraid!" was all he said in answer.
"You are--safe enough."

"But--but--Fletcher?" she questioned, desperately. "What of him?"

"He's safe too--for the present." There was something of grimness in his
reply. "He doesn't matter so much. He's been asking for trouble all
along--but he had no right--no right whatever--to bring you into it.
It's you that matters."

A curious, vibrant quality had crept into his voice, and an answering
tremor went through her; but she controlled it swiftly.

"And Adela," she said. "She was with Mr. Harley. What has become of her?"

"He will take care of her for his own sake. Leave her to him!" Warden
spoke with a hint of disdain. "She'll get nothing worse than a fright,"
he said, "possibly not even that--if he gets her to the manager's house
in time."

"In time!" she echoed. "In time for what? What is going to happen? What
do you mean?"

His hold tightened upon her. "Well," he said, "there's going to be a row.
But I'm boss of this show, and I reckon I can deal with it. Only--I'll
have you safe first, little new chum. I'm not taking any chances where
you are concerned."