The sight of her set Graham's brain working again. In getting her out of the Papowsky's poisonous place and leading her step by step down the winding fire-escape and, when it ceased abruptly in mid-air, into the window of a restaurant, he had been brought to the end of one line of thought,--that of getting the girl safely out of her prison. He now started on another, while the cab rocked along the trolley lines beneath the elevated railway, sometimes swerving dangerously out and round the iron supports. Suddenly Graham was seized with an idea. He put his head out of the cab window and shouted to the driver: "Fifty-five East Fifty-second Street." The girl turned to him hopefully. "What ees zat?" she asked. "My home." "Your 'ome? You take me to your 'ome?" "Why no, not exactly. I'm going in to get a bag for you. It won't have much in it except a brush and comb and a pair of my pajamas, but with them we can drive to any quiet hotel and I'll get a room for you. In the morning I'll find a little furnished apartment and you can go out and buy some clothes and the other things that you need. How's that?" Ita caught up his hand and held it against her heart. "But you are not going to leave me?" "Yes, I must," said Graham. "I shall have to register you as my sister. You've just come off the train and I've met you at the station. Oh, don't cry! It's the best I can do. It's only just for one night. I'll fix things to-morrow and you'll be very happy in a little apartment of your own, won't you? I'll see you every day there." With a sudden and almost painfully touching abandon of gratitude the girl flung herself on the floor of the cab and put her head on Graham's knees, calling on God to bless him. Something came into the boy's throat. The taxi crossed Fifth Avenue behind a motor-car that was also going towards Madison Avenue. It looked very familiar to Graham. Supposing it was his father returning from one of his medical meetings! He put his head out again, sharply: "Stop at the first house on East Fifty-second Street!" he shouted. Almost before the cab had stopped he leaped out. "Wait for me here," he added. "Sure an' I will." The driver threw a glance at his taxi-meter. Not for him to care how long he waited. Graham darted along the street and up the steps of Number fifty-five, and just as he had the key in the door he heard his father's voice. "No, no. Let my car take you home. Yes, a wonderful evening. Most inspiring. Good night! Let's meet again soon!" Graham made up his mind what to do. He held the door open for the Doctor and stood waiting for him, with the bored look of one who has had a rather dull evening. "Oh, thank you, Graham," said Dr. Guthrie. "Have you just got back?" "Yes; I thought I'd get to bed early to-night."