"Why, yes," he admitted. "Both Joe and I do believe we know who it was, but we aren't sure because we don't understand yet what that man's motive might be. I'd tell you, only I don't like to accuse anybody until there is cause for it. But that's what brought me down here this morning--that and because I wanted to tell Miss Burrell that Garry is safe, and will continue to be from now on, I hope. Those were two of my reasons for coming, at least. I had a more important one than either, but----" Barbara did not wait for him to tell her what it was. She was staring at him in unfeigned surprise. "To tell Miriam?" she echoed. "Do you--you can't mean that you knew she cared for Garry?" "Didn't you?" The girl shook her head. "Never, until just a little while ago! I--do you know, in the last few days I've begun to realize how much more you--other people--observe than I do. I've begun to wonder if I haven't been very blindly self-sufficient. For I never dreamed of such a thing, until something happened after I left you last night." Her voice faltered, but her eyes clung resolutely to his. "She came to me and asked me if I knew where he had gone. She had seen him ride away, too, Mr. O'Mara. And I learned it then, just from the terror in her face. But I didn't know until later how much she cared. "She came into my room this morning, and that, although you can't know it, was more than odd in itself, because I have always been the one to carry my woes to her. It must have been between four and five, for I had counted a clock striking four; and yet she was still dressed in her party costume. Have you guessed what she had been doing? Mr. O'Mara, she had been out looking for him! She had slipped out and been waiting because she was sure Ragtime would bolt and--and come back home, dragging him by a stirrup! Wasn't that a horrible thing to wait for, alone in the dark?" With a little shudder the girl put her hands over her eyes, as if to shut out the picture. "She wasn't hysterical, either. She was--just--ice! And wringing wet and blue with cold. Cool, proud, intolerant Miriam Burrell--and I'd never dreamed of her caring for anybody, until that minute. I sent her to bed and I think I hated Garry Devereau for an hour or two. Why, Mr. O'Mara, I'd never believed that a girl could care that much for any man!"