“Well, you look so unlike the people who live in this neighborhood, and if you attract notice, you might find it a very uncomfortable place for an elegant young man to be in at almost midnight,” Dido Morgan said, with a light laugh; then, taking matters into her own hands, she opened the door of the coupé, and called the driver to stop. Richard had no sooner dismissed the driver than he regretted it. He again felt the old mistrust of the strange girl, and recollections of tales he had read of female trappers and the original snares they lay for their victims returned forcibly to his mind. He felt he was a fool to come here at night, but he was ashamed to go back now. The night was warm and the heat had driven many of the people out of the tenements in search of a breath of air, and the dark groups of silent men and women who filled the door-steps and basement entrances and curbstones, and the ill-favored people who passed them offered Dick little hope for succor, if indeed he was the victim of a plot. There were no policemen to be seen anywhere, although Dick knew the police headquarters were not far distant. Quietly he walked beside the girl, who, too, had grown silent. He scorned to confess his fears, and he felt a determination to meet what there might be waiting for him, even if it be death, before he would weaken and retreat. The girl entered the doorway of a dark, dilapidated house, the only doorway which had no lounger, a fact in itself suspicious to Dick. He, with many misgivings and a decided palpitation of the heart, stumbled on the step as he started to follow. Had he done right and was he safe in trusting and following this clever girl? Before he had time to decide she caught his hand and led him into the dark hall. A little weak thought, that doubtless holding his hand was part of the plan to give him less chance for self-defense, flashed through his mind. Gropingly he put forth his other hand, and a thrill of horror shot through him like an electric shock as it came in contact with a man’s coat and a warm, yielding body. CHAPTER VII. MR. MARTIN SHANKS: GUARDIAN. “Did you run against something?” asked Dido, as she felt Richard start. “It’s only me,” said a deep bass voice, which had such an honest and harmless ring, that Richard’s fear and nervousness dropped from him like a cloak. “It’s all right,” Dido responded cheerfully, as she stopped and knocked on a door. Dick knew it was a door from the sound, but he was unable to distinguish door from wall in the darkness. It was opened by some one inside. Dick saw the outlines of a girlish figure between himself and the light, and heard a surprised exclamation: “Why, Dido!” They stepped in, and the girl closed the door and hastened to set chairs for her visitors. “Mr. Treadwell, this is Margaret Williams,” said Dido; then turning to Maggie she added, simply, “Mr. Treadwell has been kind to me.”