tightly over Elaine's eyes. Then he took her hand and led her out.
There was to be no chance by which she could lead a raiding party
back to the den in which she had been held.

I don't think that in all our friendship I have ever seen Kennedy
so utterly depressed as he was when we returned after the
discovery of the vast fortune which Bennett had cleverly secreted.
I came upon him in the laboratory the next morning while he was
trying to read. He had laid aside his scientific work, and now he
had even laid aside his book.

There seemed to be absolutely nothing to do until some new clue
turned up. I placed my hand on his shoulder, but the words that
would encourage him died on my lips. Several times I started to
speak, but each time I checked myself. There did not seem to be
anything that would be appropriate for such an occasion.

A sharp ring at the telephone made both of us fairly jump, so
nervous had we become. Kennedy reached over instantly for the
instrument in the vague hope that at last there was some news.

As I watched his face, it changed first from despair to wonder,
and finally it seemed to light up with the most remarkable look of
relief and happiness that one could imagine.

"I shall be right over," he cried, jamming the receiver down on
the hook, and in the same motion reaching for his hat and coat.
"Walter," he cried, "it is Elaine! They have let her go!"

I seized my own hat and coat in time to follow him and we dashed