Bailey Girard spoke with confidence, his eyes bent controllingly on Lois, who trembled as she stood in the little hallway, looking up at him, with Dosia behind her. This was the third night since that one when Justin had failed to appear, and there had been no word from him in the interim. Owing to that curious way that women have of waiting for events to happen that will end suspense, rather than seeking to end it by any unaccustomed action of their own, no inquiry had been made at the Typometer Company until late in the afternoon of the next day, which had been passed in the hourly expectation of hearing from Justin or seeing him walk in. However, nobody at the company knew anything of Justin’s movements, except that he had left the office rather early the afternoon before, and had been seen to take a car going up-town. It was presumable that he had been called suddenly out of town, and had sent some word to Mrs. Alexander that had miscarried. That evening, however, Lois sent for Leverich, who was evidently disquieted, though bluffly and rather irritatingly making light of her fears; he seemed to be both a little reluctant and a little contemptuous. “My dear Mrs. Alexander, you can’t expect a fellow to be always tied to his wife’s apron-strings! He doesn’t tell you everything. We like to have a free foot once in a while. Why, my wife’s glad when I get off for a day or two—coaxes me to go away herself! And as for anything happening to Alexander—well, an able-bodied man can look out for himself every time; there’s nothing in the world to be anxious about. He’s meant to wire to you and forgotten to do it, that’s all—I forgot it myself last year, when I was called away suddenly, but Myra didn’t turn a hair; she knew I was all right. And if I were you, Mrs. Alexander,—this is just a tip,—I wouldn’t go around telling _everyone_ that he’s gone off and you don’t know where he is. It’s the kind of thing folks get talking about in all kinds of ways; his affairs aren’t in any too good shape, as he may have told you.” “Isn’t the business all right?” queried Lois, with a puzzled fear. “Oh, yes, of course—all right; but—I wouldn’t go around wondering about his being away; he’s got his own reasons. You haven’t a telephone, have you? I’ll send around word to have one put in to-day. I’ll tell you what, I’ll ask Bailey Girard to come around and see you on the quiet—he’s got lots of wires he can pull. You won’t need me any more.”