A few minutes later saw them speeding through the keen air of a frosty morning toward Forsdyke’s office. But the interior of the limousine was warm, and Hetty, snug in her furs, looked a picture of young, healthy beauty, looked---- A memory came to Henry Forsdyke in a pang that brought a sigh. He thought of the Professor’s suggestion of last night. Of course, the whole thing was absurd!--but he wondered---- The car swung into the sidewalk in front of the Government building, stopped before the big doorway with the marble steps. Forsdyke got out. “I shall be back in a few minutes,” he said. Hetty watched him go across the pavement, ascend the marble steps. He looked neither to right nor left. _Then who was that with him?_ Hetty felt her heart stop. Who was that who passed into the doorway with him? No one had been on the steps--she was suddenly sure of it. Yet--her heart began to pump again--certainly two figures had passed through the swing-doors! She sat chilled and paralyzed for the moment in which she visualized the memory of those two figures passing into the shadow of the interior--tried to think when she had first perceived the second. A certitude shot through her, a wild alarm. She jumped to her feet, and with a blind, instinctive desire for a weapon, pulled the Colt out of the pocket of the limousine and thrust it into her muff. A moment later she was running across the pavement and up the marble steps. The janitor pulled open the swing-door for her. She fixed him with excited eyes. “Who was that who came in with Mr. Forsdyke just now?” she asked breathlessly. The janitor stared. “No one, miss. Mr. Forsdyke was alone.” Alone! She repressed an impulse to scream out, dashed to the elevator which had just come to rest after its descent. The attendant opened the gate at her approach. “Did you take Mr. Forsdyke up just now?” she asked. “Yes, miss.” “Was he alone?” “Sure!--He came in alone.” “Take me up!” She trembled so that she could scarcely stand. Her eyes closed in a sickening anxiety as she swayed back against the wall of the elevator. She shot upward. Another moment and she found herself racing along the corridor to her father’s rooms, twisting at the handle of the door. She almost fell into the ante-room occupied by Jimmy Lomax. He jumped to his feet. “Hetty!” “Father!” She had scarcely breath enough for utterance. “Father!--I must see Father----!” “Hetty, you can’t! He’s busy in his private room--no one dare----” “I must!” she gasped. “Quick!--the ghost----!” He stared in astonishment. She dodged past him, flung open the door into the next room. Henry Forsdyke was standing, checking over a sheaf of papers in his hand, in front of the swung-open wall of the room, now revealed as a safe divided into many compartments. Hetty perceived him at the first glance; _perceived, standing at his side, a man with a sardonic mocking face and a scar over the right eye who peered over his shoulder_.