Lorelei, who had remained in the background, turned suddenly sick at memory of that mysterious party at the gate; she understood now the significance of the man with the box and of the fleeing figure that had come through the darkness. The terrified manager continued his heartbroken lament, and Hammon seemed about to destroy him when Merkle drew the latter aside, speaking in an undertone. Hammon listened briefly, then broke out: "Nonsense. I'd stake my life on her. Why, she's prostrated. It's either pure blackmail, or it's my wife's work. She's had detectives on me for some time." Merkle murmured something more. "Oh, come now! I know what I'm talking about, and I won't stand for that," cried Hammon. Merkle shrugged; his next words were audible, and they were both sharp and incisive. "The harm's done. They got away clean. Now we've got to kill the story and kill it quick in case they intend it for the papers." "My God! Newspapers--at this time," groaned the other. "It couldn't be worse." "Right. We must move fast. Is your car here?" "Yes." "Get it. We'll go in with you. I had an accident to mine." "You'll see for yourself that you're wrong--about the other." Hammon jerked his head meaningly toward the house, then strode away to order his motor. Merkle favored his young companion with a wintry smile. "It seems we're too late." Lorelei nodded silently. "Don't tell him who--spoke to us out there. Not yet, at least. I--can't see HIM go to jail." "Jail? There won't be any jail to this--there never is. Jarvis will have to settle for the sake of the rest of us." Hammon's limousine rolled in under the porte-cochere, and a moment later the owner appeared with Lilas. Lorelei stared at her friend in genuine surprise, for it was obvious that Lilas was deeply agitated. Her face was swollen with weeping; she verged upon hysteria. No sooner were the four in the car and under way than she broke down, sobbing wretchedly. "It's all my fault. I might have known he was up to something; but I didn't think he'd dare--" she managed to say. "He? Who?" Merkle asked her. "Max Melcher. This is his doing." "What makes you think so?" "He as much as told me. If I hadn't been a fool I'd have guessed, but he--Oh, I could kill myself!" She burst into strangling sobs and hysteric laughter. "Why did you let him come to the dressing-room?" Lorelei inquired. "He's been doing it for years. I've always--known him. We were--engaged." Hammon verified this. "That's right. They were engaged when I met her. She didn't know the sort of ruffian he is till I proved it. She's afraid of him, and he knows it." "I tried to break with him, but he wouldn't let me, and I've HAD to be nice to him. He'd have me murdered if I--" "Rot!" Merkle exclaimed, testily.