Meanwhile, Dick Falkner was making his way home after a delightful evening at the parsonage, where he had talked with Cameron on the veranda until a late hour. As he was walking leisurely along through the quiet streets, past the dark houses, enjoying the coolness of the evening and thinking of the things that he and Cameron had been discussing, his ear caught a strange sound, that seemed to come from within a half finished house on North Catalpa Street, near the railroad. He paused a moment and listened. Surely he was not mistaken. There it was again. The sound of someone sobbing. Stepping closer and peering into the shadow, he saw a figure crouching behind a pile of lumber. It was a woman. "I beg your pardon, madam, but can I be of any help to you?" She started to her feet with a little cry. "Don't be frightened," said Dick, in a calm voice. "I am a gentleman. Come, let me help you." And stepping into the shadow, he gently led her to the light, where she stood trembling before him. "Tell me what--My God! Amy--I beg your pardon--Miss Goodrich." "Oh Mr. Falkner," sobbed the poor girl, almost beside herself with fear. "Don't let that man come near me. I want to go home. Oh, please take me home?" "There, there," said Dick, controlling himself and speaking in a steady, matter-of-fact tone. "Of course I'll see you home. Take my arm, please. You need have no fear. You know I'll protect you." Calmed by his voice and manner, the girl ceased her sobbing and walked quietly down the street by his side. Dick's mind was in a whirl. "Was he dreaming? How came she here at such an hour. Who was she afraid of? By her dress, she had been to a social party of some kind; what did it all mean? But he spoke no word as they walked on together. "Oh look," exclaimed Amy, a few moments later, as they turned east on Sixth Street; "there he is again. Oh Mr. Falkner, what shall I do? Let me go." And she turned to run once more. Dick laid his hand on her arm. "Miss Goodrich, don't you know that you are safe with me? Be calm and tell me what you fear." Something in his touch brought Amy to herself again and she whispered: "Don't you see that man standing there by the light?" She pointed to a figure leaning against a telephone pole. "Well, what of it?" said Dick. "He won't hurt you." "Oh, but you don't understand. I ran away from him. He is drunk and threatened me." Dick's form straightened and his face grew hard and cold. "Ran away from him. Do you mean that that fellow insulted you, Miss Goodrich?" "I--I--was with him--and--he frightened me--" gasped Amy. "Let's go the other way." But they were too late. Amy's former escort had seen them, and with uncertain steps approached. "Oh, here you are," he said. "Thought I'd find you, my beauty."