I was helpless. Against my own judgment I did as he bade. We waited. We sat upon the terrace for awhile with the ladies, Jack reading aloud. Una made no comment upon Jerry's absence and gave no sign of her prescience of anything unusual, except the frequent turning of her head toward the house or toward the paths within the range of her vision, as though she hoped every moment that Jerry might appear. The shadows lengthened. Jack challenged the girl to a game of tennis and even offered to play in the double court against us both, but neither of us was willing. I think she knew where Jerry had gone and, like me, was frightened. It was a miserable afternoon. As the dinner hour approached the ladies retired to dress and I gave a sigh of relief. In my anxious state of mind the burden of entertaining them had weighed heavily upon me. It had occurred to me that Una's mother might have thought it strange that Jerry should have left them so suddenly without excuses, for he owed them an explanation at least. I think some inkling of an unusual situation had entered Mrs. Habberton's mind, for when dinner was nearly over and her host had not appeared, she made a vague remark about a letter that had come in the morning which might oblige her to curtail her visit, a tactful anticipation of any situation which might make their stay impossible. The evening dragged hopelessly and the ladies retired early, while at the foot of the stair I made some fatuous remark about Jerry's possibly having been summoned to town. The "good-nights" were said with an excess of cheerfulness on Una's part and my own which did nothing to conceal from either of us the real nature of our anxiety. Jack and I smoked in the library, discussing every phase of the situation. The coming of night without a word or a sign from the boy had made us both a prey to the liveliest fears. Something had happened to Jerry--What? He had been wild, determined. I could not forget his look. It was the same expression I had seen at Madison Square Garden when he had made his insensate effort to knock Clancy out--a narrow glitter of the eyes, brute-keen and directed by a mind made crafty by desperation. Weary of surmises, at last we relapsed into silence, trying to read. Jack at last dozed over his book and, unable longer to remain seated, I got up, went outside and walked around the house again and again. The garage tempted me. Jerry's machine was inside. Unknown to Jack I would go myself to Briar Hills and see Miss Gore. She would know. There was a light in the window. I turned the knob and entered. As I did so someone stooping rose and faced me. It was Jerry, a terrible figure, his clothes torn and covered with dirt, his hair matted and hanging over his eyes, which gleamed somberly out of dark circles. He had a wrench in his hand. For a moment in my timidity and uncertainty I thought him mad and about to strike me with it. But he made no move toward me and only hung his head like a whipped dog.