"Oh! Yes, that's right. It's terrible for that poor woman. Terrible. As I was saying, the last anybody saw of him was when he started for the Tavern. Gilfillan follered him part ways and then went back to the ferry, never dreaming he--But didn't I tell you that before? I'm so upset I don't seem to remember what I--Oh, yes, now I know where I was. The detectives insisted on searching every room in the Tavern. Angie Miller got as sore as a boiled lobster when they knocked on her door and asked if he was in her room. You ought to have heard what she said to 'em from behind the door when she finally opened it and let 'em in,--and she nearly had a fit when she saw old Tintype was with 'em. She lit into him,--my gosh, how she lit into him! Accused him of suspecting her of having an erudite affair with Courtney,--erudite wasn't the word she used, but it don't matter, it's as good as any for an old maid. We searched everywhere, but no sign of him. You needn't be surprised to find one of the detectives hanging around your place, Alix. They think maybe he'll turn up there before long." "He can't be very far away," said she suddenly aroused to anxiety. She had ceased crying and was drying her eyes with her handkerchief. The car was nearing the entrance to her grounds. "He wouldn't dare come to my house after--after what I said to him tonight. He could not expect me to help him in any--" "Well, you see, it's barely possible he don't know they're after him, Alix. I guess maybe I'd better stay here for a while. You won't be so nervous with me in the house." "I am not afraid, Charlie. Of course, I am terribly unstrung and unhappy over poor little Rosabel,--but I am not afraid of HIM. He will not come here. Tell me again just what he is accused of doing." The car had drawn up under the porte-cochere. Webster repeated the story he had had from Gilfillan. She sat perfectly still during the lengthy recital. "And to think--" she began, but checked the words in time. "Oh, what fools we have been, Charlie!" "Anyhow," said Charlie, divining her thoughts, "there's a good deal to be said for that saying, 'All's well that ends well.' I've been thinking what a difference there is in men. Now, take for instance David Strong. Just stack him up alongside this slick, smooth-talking--" "Oh, Charlie!" It was almost a wail. He took her hand in one of his and gently patted it with the other. "I guess you'd kind of like to see Davy for a change, wouldn't you, Alix?" She caught her breath sharply, as if in pain. "Now, there's a feller," went on Charlie after a moment, "that's all wool and a yard wide. He--" "Good night, Charlie," she broke in abruptly. "Thank you for coming to meet me. You--you are the best, the dearest man in the world. I--"