broker. Doctor Murray and myself completed the party."

"Doctor Murray is his personal physician?" ventured Craig.

"Yes. You know when Mr. Mansfield's stomach went back on him last
year it was Doctor Murray who really cured him."

Kennedy nodded.

"Might this present trouble be a recurrence of the old trouble?"

She shook her head. "No; this is entirely different. Oh, I wish
that you could go with me and see him!" she pleaded.

"I will," agreed Kennedy.

A moment later we were speeding in a taxicab over to the
apartment.

"Really," she remarked, nervously, "I feel lost with Mr. Mansfield
so ill. He has so many interests downtown that require constant
attention that just the loss of time means a great deal. Of
course, I understand many of them--but, you know, a private
secretary can't conduct a man's business. And just now, when I
came up from the office, I couldn't believe that he was too ill to
care about things until I actually saw him."

We entered the apartment. A mere glance about showed that; even
though Mansfield's hobby was diamonds, he was no mean collector of
other articles of beauty. In the big living-room, which was almost