At that instant Helen caught sight of Benjamin Clymer and his
companion, Philip Rochester, and her pale cheeks flushed faintly at
the lawyer's approach. He had time but for a hasty handshake before
the clerk administered the oath to the prisoner and the witnesses
in the case.

Rochester walked back and resumed his seat by Clymer. Propping
himself in the corner made by the bench and the cage, inside of
which sat the prisoners, he opened his right hand and unfolded a
small paper. He read the brief penciled message it contained not
once but a dozen times. Folding the paper into minute dimensions
he tucked it carefully inside his vest pocket and glanced sideways
at Clymer. The banker hardly noticed his uneasy movements as he
sat regarding Helen McIntyre standing in the witness box. Although
paler than usual, the girl's manner was quiet, but Clymer, a close
student of human nature, decided she was keeping her composure by
will power alone, and his interest grew.

The Judge, from the Bench, was also regarding the handsome witness
and the burglar with close attention. Colonel Charles McIntyre, a
wealthy manufacturer, had, upon his retirement from active business,
made the National Capital his home, and his name had become a
household word for philanthropy, while his twin daughters were both
popular in Washington's gay younger set. Several reporters of local
papers, attracted by the mention of the McIntyre name, as well as
by the twins' appearance, watched the scene with keen expectancy,
eager for early morning "copy."

As the Assistant District Attorney rose to question Helen McIntyre,
the Judge addressed him.