“Oughtn’t we to find out whether she’s the one who’s after you or not?” Monty suggested with sound good sense. “No, we oughtn’t,” Denby returned. “I won’t insult her by trying to trap her.” “Flub-dub,” Monty scoffed. “I suspect her, and it’s only fair to her to clear her of that suspicion. If she’s all right, I shall be darn glad of it. If she isn’t, wouldn’t you rather know?” For the first time since he had met his old school friend in Paris, Monty saw him depressed and anxious. “I don’t want to have to fight her,” he explained. “I understand that,” Monty went on relentlessly, “but you can’t quit now--you’ve got to go through with it, not only for your own sake, but in fairness to the Harringtons. It would be a pretty raw deal to give them to have an exposé like that here just because of your refusal to have her tested.” “I suppose you’re right,” Denby sighed. “Of course I am,” Monty exclaimed. “Very well,” his friend said, “understand I’m only doing this to prove how absolutely wrong you are.” He would not admit even yet that she was plotting to betray him. Those memories of Paris were dearer to him than he had allowed himself to believe. Monty looked at him commiseratingly. He had never before seen Steven in trouble, and he judged his wound to be deeper than it seemed. “Sure,” he said. “Sure, I know, and I’ll be as glad as you to find after all it’s Lambart or one of the other servants. What shall we do?” Denby pointed to the door from which Miss Cartwright had come. “Go in there,” he commanded, “and keep the rest of the people from coming back here.” Monty’s face fell. “How can I do that?” he asked anxiously. “Oh, recite, make faces, imitate Irving in ‘The Bells,’ do anything but threaten to sing, but keep ’em there as you love me.” Obediently Monty made for the door but stopped for a moment before passing through it. “And say, old man,” he said a little hurriedly, nervous as most men are when they deal with sentiment, “don’t take it too hard. Just remember what happened to Samson and Antony and Adam.” CHAPTER ELEVEN When Monty had gone, Denby took out the pouch and placed it conspicuously on the floor so that anyone descending the stairs must inevitably catch sight of it. Then, as though thinking better of it, he picked it up and placed it on one of the small tables on which was an electric shaded lamp. After looking about him for a hiding-place from which he could command a view of it and yet remain undiscovered, he decided upon a door at the left of the hall. He had waited there only a few seconds when Ethel Cartwright’s steps were heard descending.