"While I was thinking this he was telling me that he had a safe hiding place and that I must join him at once, the plans were now perfected for the new enterprise in which he was to launch me. I demurred and to gain time told him how I’d tried to go before and been followed. That caught his attention at once, his questions came quick and eager. Perhaps before that he had tried to disguise his voice, anyway now the familiar note in it grew stronger. I began to catch at something—inflexions, accent—till suddenly, like a runner who rounds a corner and sees his goal unexpectedly before him, my memory saw a name—Harland! "I was so amazed, so staggered that for a moment I couldn’t speak. The voice brought me back, saying sharply, ’Are you there?’ I stammered a reply and said I couldn’t make up my mind to come. He urged, but I wouldn’t promise, till at length, feeling I might betray myself, I said I’d think it over and let him know later. He had to be satisfied with that and gave me his telephone number telling me to call him up as soon as I decided. "What did I feel as I sat alone in that dismantled place? Can you realize the state of my thoughts? What did it mean—what was going on? The man was not Johnston Barker, but how could he be Harland, who was dead and buried? Ah, if you had come _then_ instead of Friday I’d have told you for I was in waters too deep for me. All that I could grasp was that I was in the midst of something incomprehensible and terrible, from the darkness of which one thought stood out—my father had never sent for me, I had never heard from him—it had been this other man all along! I was then as certain as if his spirit had appeared before me that Johnston Barker was dead. "And now I come to one of the strangest and finest things that ever happened to me in my life. Late on Sunday night a girl—unknown to me and refusing to give her name—came and told me of the murder, the whole of it, the evidence against me, and that I stood in danger of immediate arrest." I jumped to my feet—I couldn’t believe it: "A girl—what kind of a girl?" "Young and pretty, with dark brown eyes and brown curly hair. Oh, I can place her for you. She said she had been employed to help get the information against me and my father, and was the only woman acting in that capacity." "Molly!" I gasped, falling back into my chair. "Molly Babbitts! What in Heaven’s name—" "You’re right to invoke Heaven’s name, for it was Heaven that sent her. She wouldn’t tell me who she was or why she came, but I could see. What reason could there have been except that she believed me innocent and wanted to help me escape?" For a moment I couldn’t speak. I dropped my head and a silent oath went up from me to hold Molly sacred forever more. I could see it all—she’d found her heart, realized the cruelty of what was to be done, discovered in some way she’d given me wrong information, and done the thing herself. The gallant, noble little soul! God bless her! God bless her!