“You see,” Eugene hurried on blandly, “it’s about the house I’m especially in a hurry. We can’t do anything till the business is settled up of course, but I’ve had an offer for the house, an unusually good offer. The man wants to pay cash and get possession right away. It’s a man I met in the city in business relations, and he’s going to Europe and wants to leave his family here all safely fixed before he has to leave. Every day counts with him, and he’s especially anxious to get this house, and is willing to pay a good price if he can get the thing settled up at once. I thought perhaps you could put the matter through tonight for me so I could take advantage of this deal.” “H’m! Does Joyce want to sell?” questioned the old man from his pillows, “Because if she does you better wire her to come on.” “I’m sure I don’t know what Joyce has to do with it,” fumed Eugene. “It was my mother’s house wasn’t it? Naturally I--” But the old man’s deep voice boomed out in stern and sudden interruption: “Joyce has a great deal to do with it. The house belongs to Joyce.” Eugene arose excitedly, his face growing suddenly very red, his voice raised far beyond the sick room quality: “I don’t believe a word of it!” he shouted. “That’s a rank lie! My mother--!” But Dan Peterson stood suddenly beside him saying in a quiet voice: “That will be all this evening, Mr. Massey. Step this way please,” and Eugene found his arm grasped like a vise and himself propelled rapidly out of the room with Nannette in a frightened patter coming behind and some one inside the room shut the door. Afterwards in remembering, it seemed that he had heard a sound something like a chuckle from the region of the bed. It made his blood boil hotly when he thought of it. Of course there had been nothing to laugh at and yet, he felt sure the old Judge had laughed. There must be something--he must find Joyce at once. They discussed it a long time after they got home and Eugene had got done scolding his wife for having been the cause of Joyce’s leaving. Eugene wanted to get a detective at once and find Joyce. He was frantic. He couldn’t stand the night through with this matter of the house facing him. He even had the telephone in his hand to call up a detective bureau in the city, but Nannette grappled with him for it, and pleaded with him to be reasonable for once. “Just as soon as you get a detective the whole thing will be out, and everybody will be talking. You’ll have the whole town arrayed against us, and then where will we be? Joyce may come back tomorrow, and then there won’t be any need to tell any one. And anyhow you could have called her back when she first went if you had done what I told you, it was you that scolded her for burning the electric light so late last night you remember.”