When he awoke the sun was high in the sky. It was past ten o’clock. Hurriedly dressing and without waiting for breakfast, he drove to the flat Ruby shared in Baker Street with another girl. But the housekeeper told him that she had gone out nearly an hour previously. In spite of the late night, Rupert felt strangely elated and excited. The sunshine of the new day made him optimistic. He knew she had gone down to the bookmakers to draw the money they had won. He waited a little while thinking she might return. Then he remembered she had told him that she would bring him the money to his rooms. He hurried back to Westminster. But she was not there, and he felt a thrill of apprehension. He rang for a cup of tea; when his landlady brought it she again reminded him of his bill. "I’m just waiting for some money to come from the bank," he said with exaggerated carelessness. "I’m leaving town to-night for a week or two, but I shall keep my rooms on. I’ll pay for them in advance." He swallowed his tea and smoked a cigarette. He could not eat. Ruby had had plenty of time to draw the money and reach his rooms! Perhaps the bookmaker was away, or refused to settle until Monday. He heard Big Ben chime the hour—twelve o’clock. He lit another cigarette and stood on the balcony outside the window waiting. At last he saw a taxi-cab draw up outside his front door and Ruby Strode alight. He ran down the staircase to meet her. "Is it all right, have you got it?" he cried. His only thought was the money now. The money that meant salvation. She did not reply, but brushed past him upstairs and he followed her. He heard her breath coming in quick, hard gasps, and following her into the sitting-room he locked the door. "Tell me, is it all right, have you got it?" Rupert stretched out his hands imploringly. CHAPTER IV. RADIUM. Ruby Stroke threw aside the heavy veil she wore and placed her bag on the table. Rupert heard the clink of coins. "Of course, I’ve got it," she stammered. "Look! Five hundred pounds. I’ve brought fifty in gold. I thought, perhaps, it would be more useful than—than notes." He staggered to her side and looked at the two little bags of gold she had placed on the table. She showed him a roll of notes. He pushed them aside, and pouring the gold out on the table he commenced to count it. It fascinated him. He could not speak. Presently he began to laugh hysterically. "You are sure there’s no mistake?" "Count it again." Again he laughed. "I didn’t mean that—I mean, it’s all right—I can’t believe it—that this is ours—all ours." He dropped on to his knees beside her and put his arms around her waist. "Oh, my dear!" he cried, "my dear!"