The young man stood aside, and Harding ran out. Then the athletic one helped Brant to his feet. “He didn’t cut you, did he?” he asked. “No. I believe he was trying to choke me. I don’t know how I came to be so careless. How did you happen in?” The young man laughed, and was not beyond blushing a little. “I guess I might as well make a clean breast of it. Business isn’t very brisk at this time of night, and I overheard a little of what was going on--not much, but enough to make me wonder if I could smash the door in if the need arose. I suppose I ought to be ashamed of myself; but it was rather lucky, as it turned out.” “Very lucky, indeed. And there was nothing particularly private about my part of the interview. Has John gone home?” “Yes. Shall I call a cab for you?” “Oh, no. Give me your shoulder to the sidewalk and I can make it all right. But I am beginning to think I had a rather close call.” “You did that.” The head waiter took Brant’s arm, and the course between the tables of the public room was safely steered. At the door the breath of the night air was revivifying, and Brant found speech in which to thank his rescuer. “Oh, that’s all right,” laughed the athlete. “It’s all in a day’s work. Good night.” CHAPTER IX THE EYE TO THE STRING IN the Langford household the judge and Dorothy were the only early risers, and on the morning following Will’s home-bringing they breakfasted alone together as usual. Dorothy and her mother had sat up for the wayward one the night before; but at the breakfast table the daughter saw that the news of his son’s return brought small comfort to her father. The cause of his disquietude was not far to seek. The morning papers lay unopened beside his plate, and he left them there when he retreated to the library. Being a woman, Dorothy did not thus deny herself the luxury of suffering with full knowledge. She opened the papers and read the reports of the raid on Draco’s; and she did not fail to put up a little pæan of thanksgiving when she found that her brother’s name was omitted in the list of the arrests. Stopping only long enough to make assurance doubly sure, she hastened to the library. “Here are the papers, father,” she began, and when he looked up from his book and shook his head in refusal, she went on quickly: “You needn’t be afraid to read them; Will’s name isn’t mentioned.” The judge took the papers and scanned them with interest newly aroused. The fine old face of the master of Hollywood, with its heavy white mustache and pointed goatee, was military rather than judicial, and Dorothy was joyed to see the lines of stern sorrow soften a little as he read. “You are right,” he said, after he had scanned the list of the incriminated ones. “Let us thank God that we are spared so much. But I don’t understand it.” “Perhaps Will gave an assumed name,” Dorothy suggested.