The old man wet his lips and swallowed chokingly,
but he did not speak.

``I'm waiting, Pete.''

Billy laid one hand on the old servant's arm
--in the other hand she still tightly clutched the
mirror knobs.

``Pete, if you do know, won't you tell us,
please?'' she begged.

Pete looked down at the hand, then up at the
troubled young face with the beseeching eyes.
His own features worked convulsively. With a
visible effort he cleared his throat.

``I know--what he said,'' he stammered, his
eyes averted.

``What was it?''

There was no answer.

``Look here, Pete, you'll have to tell us, you
know,'' cut in Bertram, decisively, ``so you might
as well do it now as ever.''

Once more Pete cleared his throat. This time
the words came in a burst of desperation.