"Precisely--that's why we, too, must be on hand, together with a strong force of detectives. We'll get them all. There will be no possible escape. We'll surround the house with men. They'll be caught like rats in a trap." The lawyer turned to go. "Where are you bound now?" asked Dick. "To police headquarters!" CHAPTER XIX "There--take a little water--you're much better now!" said the nurse, soothingly. The patient swallowed greedily the cooling drink handed to him, and, tired even by that small effort, fell back on his pillows exhausted. "Where am I?" he inquired of the comely young woman, who in neat service uniform, hovered about the bed. "You're in St. Mary's Hospital." "In New York?" he queried. "No--San Francisco----" He was too weak to question further, but his hollow blue eyes followed her as she moved here and there, attending skilfully and swiftly to the duties of the sick room. Presently he made another venture: "Have I been ill long?" "Yes--very long." "What's the matter?" "Concussion of the brain, pneumonia and shock. You are much better now, but you mustn't talk so much or you may have a relapse." He asked no more, but passed his hand over his brow in a bewildered sort of way. Presently, he began again: "Does my wife come to see me?" The nurse stopped in her work and looked at him curiously. In surprise, she exclaimed: "Your wife! Have you a wife?" It was his turn now to be surprised. In somewhat peevish tone he said: "Of course I've a wife--everyone knows that." "What's her name?" "Helen--Helen Traynor." Enthusiastically, he added: "Oh, you'd just love my wife if you only knew her. She's the sweetest, the most unselfish----" The nurse looked at him curiously. "So your name is Traynor, is it? We've tried to find out for a long time. But there were no marks on your clothes when you were picked up. We did not know who you were and so have not been able to communicate with any of your friends. We guessed you were a man of social position by your hands and teeth, and we knew your name began with a T because of the monogram on the signet ring on your finger." "Pick me up?" he echoed. "Where did they pick me up? What has happened? Was it an accident?" "You were found unconscious, drifting in the ocean, clinging to a spar, and were brought here by a sailing vessel. You had a fracture of the skull and you were half drowned. It is supposed that you were one of the passengers of the _Abyssinia_, which took fire and went down two days after leaving Cape Town, but as several passengers and officers whose bodies were never found also had names beginning with T, it was impossible to identify you." As he listened, the vacant, stupid expression on his face gradually gave place to a more alert, intelligent look. Indistinctly, vaguely, he recalled things that had happened. Slowly his brain cells began to work.