"It'll be too late when he's strapped in the chair with the black cap on and the electrode at the back of his handsome white neck... You'll remember it was really you put him there... Twelve hundred volts they give them. You can smell them burning ... Well, how about it?" "Go away!" said Pen. "Oh, all right! All right!" he cried violently. She heard him leap down by the boxes. Looking through the narrow pane beside the door, she saw him run along the drive brandishing his clenched fists over his head. Pen went up-stairs. A sudden weakness overcame her, and she could scarcely drag one foot after the other. As she reached the upper landing a door opened and her father came out, carrying a candle. She had to assume some semblance of self-possession. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Nothing, Dad." "I thought I heard a little commotion down-stairs. It wakened me." "Only the closing of the front door. You must have been dreaming." "Who brought you home?" "Mr. Riever." A note of pleased excitement crept into Pendleton's voice. "You have been with him all day?" "Most all day." He paddled close to her, the candle shaking a little in his agitation. He was wearing an old-fashioned night-shirt slit at the sides, and revealing an unexpectedly plump calf. "Oh, Pen, it's all right between you two, isn't it?" he said. "It means so much to me!" Pen was too weary to get angry all over again. She merely smiled faintly at the irony of life. He had put off his grand airs with his clothes. He was as simple now as his old-fashioned shirt. "Pen dear, think what it means to me! A frustrated old man! I'm a failure. I can't do anything for you. And I see this chance for you to establish yourself! Don't let any romantic youthful folly stand in the way, daughter. There's nothing in it. I know. Safety is everything!" "Dad, you must leave this to me," Pen muttered painfully. "I will! I will!" he said brightly. "I have every confidence in you. If you think of the matter at all there can be but the one answer!" "Go to bed, dear," said Pen, kissing him. CHAPTER IX THE NIGHT LONG One of Delehanty's first measures was to have the big house watched. Even before Riever could have got back to the beach, Pen from her front window saw the little group come in by the drive, separate and lose themselves in the darkness. One came to the house. Pendleton let him in. By Mr. Delehanty's orders he was to keep watch inside the house all night. He was to remain in the hall of the second floor. Pendleton's outraged protests were in vain. The man brought a chair up from the dining-room, and planted it outside Pen's door. It was Keesing. Pen already had him down in her black books, a gaunt, red-haired young man, curiously eager to do spy work.