"The housekeeper. There's just one thing to do for the sake of all of us. This has _got_ to be hushed up. I'm going out to telephone. Don't let her get away, Hal." "Get away! Oh, my God!" breathed the girl. Hal walked over to her, his heart wrung with pity. "Why did you come here to kill my father, Milly?" he asked. She stooped to pick up the "Happy Lady" clipping from the floor. "That's why," she said. "Good God!" said Hal. "Have you been taking that--those pills?" "Taking 'em? Yes, and believing in 'em, till I found out it was all damned lies. And your fine and noble and honest 'Clarion' advertises the lies just as your fine and noble and honest father makes the pills. They're no good. Do you get that? And when I came here and told your father he'd got to help me out of my trouble, what do you think he told me? That I'd lost my job at the factory!" "Who is the man, Milly?" "What business is that of yours?" "I'll go after him and see that he marries you if it takes--" "Oh, he'd be only too glad to marry me if he could. He can't. Poor Max has got a wife somewhere--" "Max? It's Veltman!" cried Hal. "The dirty scoundrel." "Oh, don't blame Max," said the girl wearily. "It isn't his fault. After you threw me down"--Hal winced--"I started to run wild. It's the Hardscrabbler in me. I took to drinking and running around, and Max pulled me out of it, and I went to live with him. I didn't care. Nothing mattered, anyway. And I wasn't afraid of anything like this happening, because I thought the pills made it all safe." Here Dr. Surtaine reappeared. "I've got a detective coming that I can trust." "A detective?" cried Hal. "Oh, Dad--" "You keep out of this," retorted his father, in a tone such as his son had never heard from him before. "I guess you've done enough. The question is"--he continued as regardless of Milly as if she had been deaf--"how to hush her up." "You've had your chance to hush me up," said the girl sullenly. "Any money within reason--" "I don't want your money." "Listen here, then. You tried to murder me. That's ten years in State's prison. Now, if ever I hear of you opening your mouth about this, I'll send you up. I guess that will keep you quiet. Now, then, what's your answer?" "Give me a glass of whiskey, and I'll tell you." Hal poured her out a glass. She passed a swift hand above it. "Here's peace and quiet in the proprietary medicine business," she said, and drank. "I guess that'll--make--some--stir," she added, with an effect of carefully timing her words. Her body lapsed quite gently back into the chair. The two men ran and bent over her as the glass tinkled and rolled on the floor. There was an acrid, bitter scent in the air. They lifted their heads, and their eyes met in a haggard realization. No longer was there any need of hushing up Milly Neal. CHAPTER XXVI THE PARTING The doorbell buzzed. "That's the detective," said Dr. Surtaine to Hal. "Stay here."