He was far ahead, but his voice seemed to stay behind with them as they ran after, holding each other back, urging each other on. “All right!” Janice Jennings screamed to the mill hands, herded in the narrow halls, fighting their way to the doors, falling over the threshold--“It’s all right, I tell you! He’s got the bomb out! Everything’s all right!” That was, however, a debatable question, for the instant her sharp and imperative voice was silent something happened far down the lane. There was a dull detonation, and a brief flash of flame, and the flying figure went suddenly down to the earth and was still, and Glen Darrow, leaving Mrs. Eugenia Parker behind, went forward in a spurt of speed. When they came up to her, Janice Jennings and Nancy Carey and Luke Manders, the President of the Federated Clubs, and the crowding, clamoring workers from the Altonia, they found her seated on the ground with the broken and bleeding thing which had been young Mr. Peter Parker of Pasadena in her arms, his blood on her hands, on her face, on her blazing hair, but she rose at once, without a word, relinquishing him to his mother. CHAPTER XIX _Glen Darrow, being her father’s daughter, decides that promises are made to be kept._ SHE steadily refused to see him in the fortnight which followed. During the first frightened days of consultations and hourly bulletins Miss Ada telephoned constantly for news, and the girl received her reports gravely and gratefully. He had a fighting chance; he would live, but he would lose an arm: the arm would be saved but the hand must go: he would keep his hand, or the greater portion of it: he wasn’t even going to lose a finger, and there would be only one small scar on his forehead! All evidence pointed clearly to Black Orlo. He had been known to make threats, audibly, and in the blurred pages of _The Torch_, and he had never been seen since he handed Pap Tolliver the note for Glen Darrow. The law was utterly unable to pick up a clue. As soon as he was able to see visitors Peter sent for Glen, imperatively at first, then humbly, and at length wheedlingly, but although he wrote that Babe Jennings and Nancy Carey and Mary-Lou Tenafee had each been granted a royal audience, the doctor’s daughter stayed away. “I believe,” he told his mother reflectively, “that you’ll have to go and get her for me.”