Hanscom, divining some part of the passion of self-accusation into which the girl had been thrown, eagerly asked, "Is there something more I can do?" "If you will have our bags brought, I shall be grateful. We may not be able to leave for several days." "I'll attend to them at once, but"--he looked aside as if afraid of revealing something--"I may be called away during the afternoon on business, and if I am, don't think I'm neglecting you." "How long will you be gone?" "I can't tell--for a day or two, perhaps." The thought of his going gave her a sharp pang of prospective loneliness. "I know you must return to your work," she said, slowly, "but I shall feel very helpless without you," and the voicing of her dependence upon him added definiteness and power to her regret. He hastened to say: "I won't go if I can possibly help it, be sure of that; but something has come up which may make it necessary for me to--to take a trip. I'll return as soon as I can. I'll hurry away now and bring your baggage; that much I can surely do," and he went out, leaving her greatly troubled by something unexplained in the manner of his going. Stopping at Carmody's, Hanscom again thanked him for his kindness and warned him not to say one word to Helen about his fight with Abe nor about the warrant that was hanging over him. "She has enough to worry about as it is," he said; "and if they get me, as they will, I want you to look after her and let me know how she gets on." Carmody did not attempt to minimize the seriousness of the opposition. "Abe can make a whole lot of trouble for you, in one way and another, and even if you shake him off, you're in for a settlement with old Cuneo, who will reach here to-night. As near as I can discover, he's one of those pop-eyed foreigners who'd just as soon use a knife as not, and Abe will do his best to spur him into jumping you." "Well, looks like he'll have hard work reaching me, for, unless somebody goes my bail, I'm likely to be safe in the 'cooler' when he gets here." Carmody had been decidedly friendly all through this troublesome week, and here was a good place for him to say, "I'll go your bail, Hans," but he didn't--he couldn't. He was poor and not very secure in his position, so he let Hanscom go out, and took up his own work with a feeling that he was playing a poor part in a rough game. The news of Kauffman's illness reached kindly Mrs. Brinkley and moved her to call upon Helen, to offer her services, and in the midst of her polite condolences she said: "Mr. Hanscom's arrest must have infuriated you. It did me." Helen turned a startled glance upon her visitor. "I didn't know he was arrested." "Didn't you? Well, he is," said Mrs. Brinkley. "Why; that can't be true! He was here less than an hour ago." "He's just been arrested for assaulting Kitsong." Helen, still unable to believe in this calamity, stammered: "But I don't understand. When did he--When was Kitsong--assaulted?"