Kitty's quick brain reached out for a similitude--water rushing over ragged boulders. “Olga!” she whispered. “He is a Russian!” “There are Serbian Olgas and Bulgarian Olgas and Rumanian Olgas. Probably his sweetheart.” “The poor thing!” “Sounds like Russian,” added Cutty, his conscience pricking him. But he welcomed that “Olga.” It would naturally put a damper on Kitty's interest. “There's Harrison with the nurse.” Quarter of an hour later the patient was taken down to the ambulance and conveyed to the private hospital. Cutty had no way of ascertaining whether they were followed; but he hoped they would be. The knowledge that their victim was in a near-by hospital would naturally serve to relax the enemy vigilance temporarily; and this would permit safely and secretly the second leg of the journey--that to his own apartment. He decided to let an hour go past; then Two-Hawks was taken through the building to the rear and transferred to the truck. Cutty sat with the driver while Captain Harrison and the nurse rode inside with the patient. On the way Cutty was rather disturbed by the deep impression Kitty Conover had made upon his heart and mind. That afternoon he had looked upon her with fatherly condescension, as the pretty daughter of the two he had loved most. From the altitude of his fifty-two he had gazed down upon her twenty-four, weighing her as like all young women of twenty-four--pleasure-loving and beau-hunting and fashion-scorched; and in a flash she had revealed the formed mind of a woman of thirty. Altitude. He had forgotten that relative to altitudes there are always two angles of vision--that from the summit and that from the green valley below. Kitty saw him beyond the tree line, but just this side of the snows--and matched his condescension with pity! He chuckled. Doddering old ass, what did it matter how she looked at him? Beautiful and young and full of common sense, yet dangerously romantical. To wait for the man she wanted, what did that signify but romance? And there was her Irish blood to consider. The association of pretty nurse and interesting patient always afforded excellent background for sentimental nonsense, the obligations of the one and the gratitude of the other. Well, he had nipped that in the bud.