There was a wild look in his eye that made her afraid of him sometimes. He had been hard toward her ever since she falteringly told him of her visit to the minister, and he had looked at her as if she had been a viper and answered her only: “You FOOL! If you could only learn to keep your mouth shut! Yes, weep. WEEP! That’s your line! Oh, why did I marry _a fool_?” Since that day Nan had kept much to herself, had not ventured to take any part in the frantic search for Joyce that was still going on in a stealthy way. Now, at the look in her husband’s eye, she vanished, sobbing softly to herself, went hurriedly up the stairs and flung herself noisily on the bed. A moment later she rose stealthily, removed her shoes and prepared to listen to whatever went on downstairs. Her heart was beating so wildly that she had to put her hand on it, it almost hurt. Eugene forestalled any attempt on her part to listen by closing the doors of the sitting room, and her only possibility of finding out anything lay in the back staircase or in watching out the window. The night was dark and a ghoulish wind was roaring about the house, a real March night with dark clouds driven across a starless sky. She could not even see the stealthy figure like a flat shadow that slid across the open space before the door and flattened against the side of the house some minutes before the knock that echoed so slightly she almost thought she was mistaken. She heard the door open and blow shut with a gust of wind, and there were voices, low murmurs, that was all. She strained her ears to hear, for she felt sure Gene would not tell her anything. He said she was a fool and he could not trust her. Downstairs, in the sitting room, Tyke stood flat against the wall by the door and ordered Gene to pull down the shades. This done, he selected a seat in the darkest corner of the room and motioned Gene to a seat in front of him. “You plumb sure thar ain’t no one lis’nen in on us?” he asked, eyeing the various doors. “Positive,” said Gene, eyeing his caller suspiciously. This man of course wanted money, and he wasn’t a very pleasant-looking customer. Perhaps he ought to have sent for a policeman and had him in hiding. Yet there might be something he would not have wanted a policeman to know. No, rather take the chances himself. He glanced nervously toward the telephone to make sure he could reach it from where he sat in case he needed it. Nan, of course, would be worse than useless in an emergency. Still, perhaps he had made a mistake in sending her to bed. However, he felt pretty sure she would manage to find a cranny to listen, and when he heard a soft creaking on the back stairs and saw Tyke start nervously, he made no move. “It’s only a mouse in the wall,” he said. “Go on.”