And if murder had been done, and she learned with shrinking heart that he, Harry, stood accused by the law, what then? She knew that his hand had not pulled the trigger, for she had seen the face of the shooter. Her gasping exclamation--"He has--killed him!"--had made that clear to Harry. She would rush to the rescue, forgetful of all else, and with her testimony, bring down the avalanche upon her! On the heels of these reflections a thrill of hope had come to him. Craig was not yet dead--there had been no sign from above-stairs since the hurried arrival of the surgeon. Also it was anticipated that he would recover consciousness. Harry's knowledge of criminal procedure told him that this was the meaning of his long detention there. Should consciousness come, if merely for an appreciable interval, he would be brought face to face with the wounded man. It was this that all awaited now, and in it Harry discerned the sole possibility of saving the situation. "Craig must have seen him when he fired!" he told himself. "For the fraction of a second they were face to face. If he is able to make a statement, it will clear me! He will be silent about Echo, too, for he will expect, if he lives, to make her his wife--it will be a long time, probably, before he misses the letters! And if I am disassociated, by Craig himself, from the attack on his life, there will no longer be any question of her involving herself to defend me!" His heart lightened and the great load seemed to lift from his soul. It was the implication of Echo that had made the situation impossible--the unbelievable coincidence of their joint presence--in damnable propinquity with the shooting. With Echo eliminated and he himself free from that cowardly indictment, would not all yet be well? He was well enough known. He was no sordid house-breaker--in spite of the humiliating incident of his entrance there that night! His thought broke, as a spruce young man, with the air of authority which is the perquisite and prerequisite of the private-secretary, entered and whispered with the guardian at the door. Harry's heart seemed to stop beating. "Is he--dead?" he asked. The young man looked at him coldly. "Not yet." "Will he live?" There was a longer pause before the other replied: "It's too soon to tell yet. It's up to you to hope so, I imagine." He whispered again with the officer, then crossed the hall to the library, which he entered, closing the door behind him. When the secretary reappeared he went quickly up the stair and along a hall. There he tapped on a door and opened it.