Routledge stepped back from the open door. He was afraid to extend his hand, lest it be repelled. When the old man rushed across the landing and gripped him, he felt a rather novel kindling of gladness. “God, son!” Cardinegh muttered, sinking into a chair. “I thought you had slipped London. This is the third time I’ve been here the last ten hours.” “It must have been three this morning when I came in, Jerry, and I left about nine last night.” “I was here between nine and ten, and again at midnight.” “Then you didn’t stay long at the Armory? You don’t mean to say that the boys gave you an ovation--of my kind? Miss Noreen must have told you.” “Routledge,” the other said slowly, struggling to get a tight rein upon a herd of flying faculties, “they welcomed me in the old way, but the place was disordered. You had been gone only a moment or two. Noreen was waiting for me in the ladies’ room--ready for the street. She would have gone home alone had I not arrived just then. Hurrying me away, she told me how you had been received. After that, she insisted upon coming here with me, though I told her I wanted to talk with you alone. Give me some whiskey.” Routledge was startled by the shaking avidity with which Cardinegh carried the raw spirit to his lips. “We came here direct from the Armory--Noreen and I,” he said breathlessly. “When we did not find you, we drove back to Cheer Street--and tossed the rest of the night. God pity her--I couldn’t tell her! Routledge, I didn’t dare to tell her!... She begged me to assure you again and again of her faith. She will see you to-day----” There was a faint sigh and a soft squirming from the third chair before the fire. It had been turned away from the light. Cardinegh jumped to his feet with horror in his face. “You’re nervous, old King-maker. Why, it’s just a little London waif I picked up asleep in my stairway.” “Do you suppose he has heard what I’ve said?” the old man demanded huskily. “You haven’t said anything yet that the world might not hear. Sit down and smoke, Jerry. God still reigns, and we’re Home.” Cardinegh stared at the little figure curled up before the fire, catching his breath audibly. “I’m all shot up,” he panted. “Say, but it’s like you, son, to pick up the little outcast.”