There was light enough for him to see that she was dressed very plainly and that the shoes she wore were heavy and serviceable. He would have gone farther and said that she was dressed poorly. Inside the car on the seat by her side was a square black case, smaller but deeper than a suit-case. Perhaps she had changed her clothes--but for all their surprising agility in this direction, actresses do not change their clothes to go home from a party. “I have been to a party too,” he said, jerking off the wheel and rolling it to the front of the car, “a surprise party with fireworks.” “A dance?” Tab smiled to himself. “I only danced once,” he said, “I saw the gentleman taking aim with the shot-gun and danced right merrily yo ho!” He heard the quick intake of her breath. “Oh, yes, it was the Pole. We heard the shots and I knew that he had taken refuge in his house before I left the theatre.” The wheel was replaced now, the tools returned and the old wheel strapped to the car. “That is O. K.,” said Tab stepping back. “Oh no, it was nothing,” he said hastily as she began to thank him, “nothing at all.” She did not offer to drive him home. He rather hoped that she would; indeed, her method of going was a little precipitate, and she was out of sight before he realized that she was gone. What on earth was she doing at that time in the morning he wondered? A party she had said, but again it occurred to him that fashionable actresses did not go to parties in that kind of outfit. Rex was awake when he reached home and came out to him. Strangely enough, although they discussed the happenings of the night, Tab did not mention his meeting with Ursula Ardfern. V “Ursula Ardfern,” Tab woke with the words on his lips. The hour was eleven and Rex had been out and was back again. “L’ami de mon oncle has been--did you hear him?” asked Rex, stopping his towel-encompassed companion on his way to the bath-room. “Who--Bonaparte?” “Wellington is his name, I believe. Yes, he came rather subdued and apologetic, but full of horrific threats toward Uncle Jesse. I turned him out.” “Why did he come?” Rex Lander shook his head. “Heaven knows! Unless it was that he simply had to find somebody who knew uncle well enough to be interested in hearing him curse the old man. I’ve persuaded him to leave town until the end of next week. But I must say that I was impressed by the brute’s threats. He says he will kill Uncle Jesse unless he makes reparation.” “Twiff!” said Tab contemptuously and went to his tub. Over his breakfast (Rex had had his two hours before) he returned to the subject of Mr. Jesse Trasmere and his enemy.