He sprang in like a catamount, clicking the door quick as a flash behind him. "'Sh-h-h! Where's ma?" "Your mamma ain't home; she went up to Rindley's. You ain't sick, are you, Mr. Izzy?" A spasm of relief flashed over his face, and he snapped his dry fingers in an agony of nervousness. "Where's Renie? Quick!" "She's in her room, layin' down. She ain't goin' to be home to the supper-party to-night, Mr. Izzy; she--What's the matter, Mr. Izzy?" He was down the hallway in three running bounds and, without the preliminary of knocking, into his sister's tiny, semi-darkened bedroom, his breathing suddenly filling it. She sprang from her little chintz-covered bed, where she had flung herself across its top, her face and wrapper rumpled with sleep. "Izzy!" "'Sh-h-h!" "Izzy, what--where--Izzy, what is it?" "'Sh-h-h, for God's sake! 'Sh-h! Don't let 'em hear, Renie. Don't let 'em hear!" Her swimming senses suddenly seemed to clear. "What's happened, Izzy? Quick! What's wrong?" He clicked the key in the lock, and in the agony of the same dry-fingered nervousness rubbed his hand back and forth across his dry lips. "Don't let 'em hear--the old man or ma--don't!" "Quick! What is it, Izzy?" She sat down on the edge of the bed, weak. "Tell me, Izzy; something terrible is wrong. It--it isn't papa, Izzy? Tell me it isn't papa. For God's sake, Izzy, he--he ain't--" "'Sh-h-h! N-no! No, it ain't. It--it ain't pa. It's me, Renie--it's me!" He crumbled at her feet, his palms plastered over his eyes and his fingers clutched deep in the high nap of his hair. "It's me! It's me!" "What? What?" "'Sh-h-h! For God's sake, Renie, you got to stand by me; you got to stand by me this time if you ever did! Promise me, Renie! It's me, Renie. I--Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" She stooped to his side, her voice and hands trembling beyond control. "Izzy! Izzy, tell me--tell me! What is it?" "Oh, my God, why didn't I die? Why didn't I die?" "Izzy, what--what is it? Money? Haven't I always stood by you before? Won't I now? Tell me, Izzy. Tell me, I say!" She tugged at his hands, prying them away from his eyes; but the terror she saw there set her trembling again and thrice she opened her lips before she found voice. "Izzy, if you don't tell me, mamma will be back soon, and then pa; and--you better tell me quick. Your own sister will stand by you. Get up, dearie." Tears trickled through his fingers and she could see the curve of his back rise and fall to the retching of suppressed sobs. "Izzy, you got to tell me quick--do you hear?" He raised his ravaged face at the sharp-edged incisiveness in her voice. "I'm in trouble, Renie--such trouble. Oh, my God, such horrible trouble!" "Tell me quick--do you hear? Quick, or mamma and papa--" "Renie--'sh-h-h! They mustn't know--the old man mustn't; she mustn't, if--if I got to kill myself first. His heart--he--he mustn't, Renie--he mustn't know." "Know what?"