“Not now,” she said, softly, as she gave him her hand, “I will think about what you’ve said—but I can’t promise now.” “No, dear, I understand,” and as Pollard’s strong fingers closed over her own, Phyllis was almost certain what her eventual answer to him would be. He was so gentle in his strength, so tender in his manliness—and he seemed a real refuge for her in her uncertainties. “But, here’s another thing,” he went on; “I hate to tell you, but the question of your having been in Gleason’s room is bound to be raised—and I want to say that I saw you—that afternoon at about six o’clock. I tell you, so you won’t try any prevarication on me.” The last was said with a good-natured smile, that gave a feeling of camaraderie which delighted Phyllis’ heart. She didn’t want to give herself irrevocably to Pollard—yet—but she was glad to have him for a friend—and his frank, pleasant friendliness cheered her very soul. “Where in the world did you see me?” she asked. “At the crowded corner of Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street. I had just left Phil Barry—we came down from the Club together—and I saw you, in a cab—with a strange man. Who was he, Phyllis?” The assured manner of his query was not lost on the girl, but she did not resent it. “Must I tell you?” she smiled. “No—no, dear. But I wish you wanted to be frank with me—to confide in me.” “Oh, I will—I do—but—I can’t.” “Then you needn’t—and, don’t look so distressed, my poor little girl. Tell me only what you want to—just let me help in any way that you want me to. And, Phyllis—I hate to make this proposition, but I must. If anything happens—if anything is said that frightens you, or troubles you deeply—will you—if you feel it would help you in any way—will you say that you are engaged to me?” “When I’m not!” “You may consider that you are or not, as you wish; but I have an idea that occasion might arise, when it would help you to announce the engagement—to assert that you have some one to look after you. If you want to break it later—that is, of course, your privilege.” “Oh,” said Phyllis, looking at him, admiringly, “how good you are! Nobody else would have thought of that!” “Don’t misunderstand me. I want you—I want you to say yes to me for keeps, some day. But in the meantime, if it ever should serve your purpose, claim me as your fiance.” CHAPTER XIV Hester’s Statement Pollard and Lane, sitting talking in the Club Lounge, were joined by Dean Monroe. “It’s a queer thing,” Monroe said, “that nobody gets any forrader in the Gleason matter. What are police for? What are detectives for? And most of all, what are we chaps for, if we can’t solve a mystery right in our own set?” “I don’t know that it matters, being in our own set,” Pollard began, but Monroe interrupted: “Yes, it does. We know all the principals——” “Hold on,” Lane said; “what do you mean, principals? There’s the principal character, the victim, himself, but further than that we know no ‘principal.’”