That night Helen felt about as bad as she had any time since she arrived in the great city. She was too disturbed to read. She lay in bed until the small hours of the morning, unable to sleep, and worrying over all her affairs, which seemed, since she had arrived in New York, to go altogether wrong. She had not made an atom of progress in that investigation which she had hoped would bring to light the truth about the mystery which had sent her father and mother West--fugitives--before she was born. She had only succeeded in becoming thoroughly suspicious of her Uncle Starkweather and of Fenwick Grimes. Nor had she made any advance in the discovery of the mysterious Allen Chesterton, the bookkeeper of her father's old firm, who held, she believed, the key to the mystery. She did not know what step to take next. She did not know what to do. And there was nobody with whom she could consult--nobody in all this great city to whom she could go. Never before had Helen felt so lonely as she did this night. She had money enough with her to pay somebody to help her dig back for facts regarding the disappearance of the money belonging to the old firm of Grimes & Morrell. But she did not know how to go about getting the help she needed. Her only real confidante--Sadie Goronsky--would not know how to advise her in this emergency. "I wish I had let Dud Stone give me his address. He said he was learning to be a lawyer," thought Helen. "And just now, I s'pose, a lawyer is what I need most. But I wouldn't know how to go about engaging a lawyer--not a good one." She awoke at her usual time next morning, and the depression of the night before was still with her. But when she jumped up she saw that it was no longer raining. The sky was overcast, but she could venture forth without running the risk of spoiling her new suit. And right there a desperate determination came into Helen Morrell's mind. She had learned that on the west side of Central Park there was a riding academy. She was _hungry_ for an hour in the saddle. It seemed to her that a gallop would clear all the cobwebs away and make her feel like herself once more. The house was still silent and dark. She took her riding habit out of the closet, made it up into a bundle, and crept downstairs with it under her arm. She escaped the watchful Lawdor for once, and got out by the area door before even the cook had crept, yawning, downstairs to begin her day's work. Helen, hurrying through the dark, dripping streets, found a little restaurant where she could get rolls and coffee on her way to the Columbus Circle riding academy. It was still early when the girl from Sunset Ranch reached her goal. Yes, a mount was to be had, and she could change her street clothes for her riding suit in the dressing-rooms.