“Hush!” A murmur of voices sounded down the hall, and Kathryn seized on the interruption. “Go in there,” she directed, “unless you wish to be caught out here with me.” Barnard hesitated; the voices were most certainly drawing nearer; it would be one thing to be found waiting in the Chinese room alone, and quite a different matter to be discovered apparently hiding in a back passage with a trained nurse. He dared not risk another struggle with Kathryn, they most certainly would be overheard. With a muttered oath he laid his hand on the door knob. “You send that paper to Admiral Lawrence at your own peril,” he whispered. “I know of certain escapades which will forfeit any man’s respect for you--you understand. Don’t push me too far,” and jerking open the door he stepped back into the Chinese room. He had been there but a moment when Calderon Fordyce entered with Representative J. Calhoun-Cooper. With a hasty word of greeting to the latter, Barnard backed toward the hall door, eager to be gone. “Stop a second, Barnard,” exclaimed Calhoun-Cooper. “I am glad to have you here. Perhaps you can help me in a legal way.” “Anything I can do, sir,” Barnard was careful to remain in the shadow as much as possible, keeping his bandaged hand in his pocket. “I am entirely at your service.” “Thanks,” Calhoun-Cooper turned his attention to his host, to Barnard’s relief. “Have you sent for Joe?” “Yes,” replied Fordyce shortly. “Look here, Cooper, can’t you contrive to settle this affair without a scene?” “I’ll try. Barnard, here, will help me.” Barnard looked wonderingly at the two men. “What is the legal age for marriage in the District, Barnard?” “With or without the consent of parents?” “Without.” Before Barnard could reply, the hall door opened and Pauline stepped into the room. “What’s to pay, father?” she inquired. “I saw you arrive, and overheard the footman tell Joe to come to this room. Is mother ill?” “No, go back to the drawing-room, Pauline, and hurry Joe in here.” “He won’t come.” Pauline, scenting excitement, was reluctant to leave. “Won’t he?” Calhoun-Cooper’s temper was aroused. Stepping past the others, he jerked open the hall door just in time to see Joe dash by. “Stop him!” he commanded. Tom Nichols, who happened to be returning from the smoking-room, instinctively tripped up the running man, and not until he helped him to his feet, did he recognize Joe. “Go back into that room,” ordered Calhoun-Cooper, and Joe quailed before the look in his eyes. “Come with us, Nichols; no, there’s no use trying to run away again,” as Joe made a sideways motion to duck by them.