And what of John B. White? What of Ruth's apparent fear of him? Could any woman so assume the attitude and look of terror? On the other hand, could her appearance of loving Ryder be likewise assumed? Suddenly there flashed into his mind the memory of how Ruth looked--what she had said, indeed--when she thought he had been taken ill in the hotel office late the previous night. He saw her again as she came madly down the hotel corridor and flung herself into his arms. "She thought it was I who had been taken sick. That I know. My God! What mystery is here? The girl loves me--deeply, sincerely, truly. I cannot doubt it. Whether she has a right to do so or not, she _does_ love me. "Then, why has she gone away with that man? What dreadful hold does he have upon her? Is she beside herself? Her words suggest an aberrant mind. I should be with her now. That White is a villain. And whatever his right, even if it is backed by law, shall I give up the woman I love and who loves me to any other man on earth?" And as though in answer to this question a repetition of Miss Solomons' last observation to him flashed into John Ryder's mind: "You're just a particular blamed fool. That's what _you_ are!" CHAPTER XX THE NAME ON THE BILLBOARD Ryder arrived in New York after dark. He did not go to his rooms, for he feared if he did so his presence would become known to some of his friends and he would be obliged to make explanations. When the taxicab deposited him, baggageless, at the hotel he selected, he noted the variegated lights of a drugstore across the street. He went into it before entering the hotel and shoved a well-wrinkled prescription across the counter to the clerk. The latter raised his brows. "I've got to sleep tonight," John Ryder said quietly. "You will see Dr. Harmstick's name clearly written on that prescription. He is my family physician. Here is my card." He got the drug, and, as soon as a room was assigned to him, took the medicine and went to bed. He could not have slept without the dose, and that took effect in a short time. But, superinduced by drugs as it was, his sleep was not refreshing. However, his mind was clear and his body alert and vigorous when he arose on Sunday morning. He sent a boy to skirmish for clean linen and a fresh tie, and made himself presentable before going down for a bit of breakfast. He had eaten practically nothing the day before, and while he ate now he tried to plan his future course of action. Future! Why, the word held nothing for him but the promise of continued pain and shame. John Ryder of spotless name had given that name into the keeping of a woman who was unworthy of it--whether she had intentionally flouted him or not, this fact seemed to be established. The newspapers must soon learn the story of his marriage fiasco. It would be blazoned forth for the whole world to read.