eyes shone with excitement. But at sight of this strange apparition
the girl made no sign. Her alert mind had in an instant taken in
the significance of the glove, and for her what followed could have
but one meaning. She knew that no matter in what guise he came the
man whose face was now pressed against the bars was a friend.

With a swift, graceful movement she rose to her feet, crossed
quickly to the window, and sank upon her knees.

"Speak in a whisper," she said; "and speak quickly. You are in
great danger!"

That her first thought was of his safety gave Ford a thrill of
shame and pleasure.

Until now Miss Dosia Dale had been only the chief feature in a
newspaper story; the unknown quantity in a problem. She had meant
no more to him than had the initials on her steamer- trunk. Now,
through her beauty, through the distress in her eyes, through her
warm and generous nature that had disclosed itself with her first
words, she became a living, breathing, lovely, and lovable woman.
All of the young man's chivalry leaped to the call. He had gone
back several centuries. In feeling, he was a knight-errant rescuing
beauty in distress from a dungeon cell. To the girl, he was a
reckless young person with a dirty face and eyes that gave
confidence. But, though a knight-errant, Ford was a modern
knight-errant. He wasted no time in explanations or pretty
speeches.

"In two minutes," he whispered, " I'll unlock your door. There's a