As he reached the steps that led up to the broad main entrance he became panic-stricken at the thought of entering a house the owner of which he did not know from Adam, on an errand that he felt himself incapable of explaining satisfactorily. He turned back and was moving toward the gates when the short, burly figure of a man loomed before him and heavy hands fell on his shoulders. “I beg your pardon!” said Farrington breathlessly. An electric lamp flashed in his face, mud-splashed from his drive, and his captor demanded his business. “I was just passing,” he faltered, “and I thought perhaps----” “Well, if you thought perhaps, you can just come up to the house and let us have a look at you,” said the stranger gruffly. With a frantic effort Farrington wrenched himself free; but as he started to run he was caught by the collar of his raincoat and jerked back. “None of that now! You climb right up to the house with me. You try bolting again and I’ll plug you.” To risk a bullet in the back was not to be considered in any view of the matter, and Farrington set off with as much dignity as he could assume, his collar tightly gripped by his captor. As they crossed the veranda the front door was thrown open and a man appeared at the threshold. Behind him hovered two other persons. “Well, Gadsby, what have you found?” “I think,” said Farrington’s captor with elation, “that we’ve got the man we’re looking for!” Farrington was thrust roughly through the door and into a broad, brilliantly lighted hall. II Senator Banning was one of the most generously photographed of American statesmen, and the bewildered and chagrined Farrington was relieved to find his wits equal to identifying him from his newspaper pictures. “Place your prisoner by the fireplace, where we can have a good look at him,” the Senator ordered. “And, if you please, Gadsby, I will question him myself.” Rudely planted on the hearth, Farrington stared about him. Two of the persons on Arabella’s list had answered the summons at any rate. His eyes ran over the others. A short, stout woman, wearing mannish clothes and an air of authority, advanced and scrutinized him closely. “A very harmless person, I should say,” she commented; and, having thus expressed herself sonorously, she sat down in the largest chair in the room. The proceedings were arrested by a loud chugging and honking on the driveway. Farrington forgot his own troubles now in the lively dialogue that followed the appearance on the scene of a handsome middle-aged woman, whose face betrayed surprise as she swept the room with a lorgnette for an instant, and then, beholding Banning, showed the keenest displeasure. “I’d like to know,” she demanded, “the precise meaning of this! If it’s a trick--a scheme to compromise me--I’d have you know, Tracy Banning, that my opinion of you has not changed since I bade you farewell in Washington last April.”