"I shall try not to impose on you," she went on. "The whole affair is so unusual as to be almost absurd. But Mr. Bentley said that you were--very kind. He said I might trust you. I am in great trouble. I have come here to get something--and I haven't the least idea how to proceed. I came because I must have it--so much depends on it." Prophetically Mr. Magee clutched in his pocket the package for which he had done battle. "I may be too late." The girl's eyes grew wide. "That would be terribly unfortunate. I do not wish you to be injured serving me--" She lowered her voice. "But if there is any way in which you can help me in--in this difficulty--I can never be grateful enough. Down-stairs in the safe there is, I believe, a package containing a large sum of money." Mr. Magee's hand closed convulsively in his pocket. "If there is any way possible," said the girl, "I must obtain that package. I give you my word I have as much right to it as any one who will appear at the inn. The honor and happiness of one who is very dear to me is involved. I ask you--made bold as I am by my desperation and Hal Bentley's assurances--to aid me if you find you can." With the eyes of a man in a dream Mr. Magee looked into the face of the latest comer to Baldpate. "Hal Bentley is an old friend and a bully chap," he said. "It will be a great pleasure to serve a friend of his." He paused, congratulating himself that these were words, idle words. "When did you arrive, may I ask?" "I believe you were having dinner when I came," she answered. "Mr. Bentley gave me a key to the kitchen door, and we found a back stairway. There seemed to be a company below--I wanted to see only you." "I repeat," said Mr. Magee, "I shall be happy to help you, if I can." His word to another lady, he reflected, was binding. "I suggest that there is no harm in waiting until morning." "But--I am afraid it was to-night--" she began. "I understand," Magee replied. "The plans went wrong. You may safely let your worries rest until to-morrow." He was on the point of adding something about relying on him, but remembered in time which girl he was addressing. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" The girl drew the fur coat closer about her shoulders. She suggested to Magee a sheltered luxurious life--he could see her regaling young men with tea before a fireplace in a beautiful room--insipid tea in thimble-like cups. "You are very kind," she said. "I hardly expected to be here the night through. It is rather cold, but I am sure we have rugs and coats enough." Mr. Magee's duty was clear. "I'll build you a fire," he announced. The girl seemed distressed at the thought. "No, I couldn't let you," she said. "I am sure it isn't necessary. I will say good night now." "Good night. If there is anything I can do--"