He had entirely forgotten the doubts and morbid fancies which had seized him in the wilderness. When he had recovered from his terrible experiences, he wondered how he could ever have permitted his mind to haunt such strange, unpleasant paths. The suffering and mental torture he went through was doubtless responsible for his unreasoning suspicions. He would never tell Laura; she must never know that he had harbored such thoughts. She would never forgive him. How delighted she would be to see him! Probably she was already anxiously on the lookout. By this time she had certainly received his telegram, which he had sent in care of her manager. He wondered where she was stopping. His last letter to her had been returned by the post office authorities marked "address unknown." She was in New York. He was sure of that, for he had read in the Chicago papers of her success in the new play. He was glad she had made good at last, because it meant more comforts for her. No doubt she had left the boarding-house, of which she wrote him discouraging accounts early in the winter, and was now installed in some fashionable hotel. The best and quickest way to find her would be to telephone the Burgess office. He wondered if she would be willing to throw up at once everything--the theatre, her future contracts and all--to marry him without delay. If he could have his way, he would like to return West with her that same day. They could leave on the Limited and get married in Chicago. In less than fifteen minutes the Waldorf was reached, a room engaged, and Madison already had the office of Burgess & Co. on the telephone. "Hello! Can you give me the private address of Miss Laura Murdock?" "We don't give private addresses," was the curt reply. This difficulty Madison had not foreseen, but his quick wit came to his aid, and in his most persuasive tone, he said: "I'm sure you will, when you know the circumstances. I am a personal friend--I might say, relative, of Miss Murdock. I've just got in from Chicago. She expects me, but I've mislaid her address." "Oh--that's different," said the voice more civilly. "There's so many Johnnies around that we have to be careful. Miss Murdock is at the Pomona, West ---- Street." Madison did not wait to eat or anything else. Jumping into the first taxicab he saw, he said: "West ---- Street." A few minutes later the cab drew up before the rather imposing entrance of the Pomona Apartments. Dismissing the taxi, he turned to the uniformed attendant, who stood surveying the weather-tanned six-footer with some respect. Judging by his clothes, the new arrival looked as if he had done some traveling. "Is Miss Murdock in?" "I'll see, sir. Who shall I say?" "Mr. Madison." Airily, he added: "Miss Murdock expects me."