"You must really go," said the servant. Kenneth turned around. "Roberts--don't be a fool. Don't you know me? I know why you don't recognize me. You all think me dead, but I'm very much alive. I did not go down on the _Abyssinia_. I was picked up and taken to San Francisco and have been in a hospital there ever since. I have just come home. Where's my wife?" The butler stared and stood motionless, as if not knowing what to make of it. "But you came home long ago." "Who came home?" "You did." "No, I didn't. I've been in San Francisco all the time. How could I be here if I was sick in a San Francisco hospital?" "Then who is the other Mr. Traynor?" Now it was Kenneth's turn to be surprised. "The other Mr. Traynor?" he echoed stupefied. "Yes--the gentleman who looks more like you than you do yourself. He arrived here a month ago. We all took him for you." For the first time a light broke in on the darkness. Who was the person who looked so like him that he could successfully impersonate him? Who could it be but the man who left him for dead on the _Abyssinia_ after murderously assaulting him? Suddenly a horrible thought came to him. Grasping the butler's arm he exclaimed: "My wife? Is she well?" "Yes, sir. Mrs. Traynor's quite well." "And Dorothy?" "Quite well, sir." "Thank God!" The servant hesitated. "That is--sir--Miss Dorothy----" "Out with it, man. Out with it." "Mrs. Traynor's being greatly worried sir, lately. Miss Dorothy was at her aunt's in Philadelphia----" "Yes, yes----" "Someone's run away with Miss Dorothy. She's been kidnapped." "My God!" "But Mrs. Traynor has a clue. She got a letter yesterday, saying where the child was. She wouldn't confide in any of us and she left here only half an hour ago to go to the place." Again Kenneth was seized by panic. "Gone to a kidnapper's den. Great God! She's running a terrible risk. Where has she gone? I'll go to her." "I don't know, sir, but Mr. Steell may know----" "Ah, that's right. I'll go and see Steell." Not waiting to say more he rushed down the steps, and, hailing another taxi, went off at full speed in the direction of Wilbur Steell's office. CHAPTER XX The startling news from Philadelphia that Dorothy had suddenly disappeared and was believed to have been kidnapped, fell upon the Traynor home with the crushing force of a bombshell. At first Helen refused to credit the report. It seemed impossible that any new suffering was to be inflicted upon her after what she had already endured. White faced, her whole being shaken by emotion, she read and re-read her aunt's letter, telling of the child's mysterious disappearance, and when at last she could read it no more because of the tears that blinded her, she threw herself limp and broken hearted into Ray's arms. Hysterically she cried: "What have I done that I should be made to suffer in this way? My God! Where is my child? This maddening suspense will kill me."