"Twelve o'clock!" cried Tom, in surprise "Why that's about the
time--"

He stopped suddenly.

"What were you going to say?" asked Mrs. Damon.

"Oh--nothing," answered Tom. "I--I'll tell you later. Go on,
please."

"It is all so confusing," proceeded Mrs. Damon. "You know my
husband has been in trouble of late--financial trouble?"

"Yes," responded Tom, "he mentioned it to me."

"I don't know any of the details," sighed Mrs. Damon, "but I know
he was mixed up with a man named Peters."

"I know him, too," spoke Tom, grimly.

"My husband has been very gloomy of late," went on Mrs. Damon. "He
foolishly entrusted almost his entire fortune to that man, and
last night he told me it was probably all gone. He said he saw
only the barest chance to save it, but that he was going to take
that chance."

"Did he go into details?" asked Tom.

"No, that was all he said. That was about ten o'clock. He didn't