Again, I would find Ruth's eyes fixed on me with a beseeching glance that might mean anything or nothing. As a whole the atmosphere seemed surcharged with a nameless excitement, almost a terror, as if something dire were impending. Once or twice I saw Stone and Terence exchange startled glances, but they rarely looked at each other. There was something brewing, of that I was sure. But whatever it was it did not affect the Schuyler sisters. They were eager to talk, anxious to hear, but they felt nothing of the undercurrent of mysterious meaning that affected the rest of us. I was glad when the time came to go. It was very late, nearly midnight, and I marveled to see that Ruth showed no sign of weariness. The sisters had been frankly yawning for some time, but Ruth's eyes were unnaturally bright, and her pale cheeks showed a tiny red spot on either side. She shook hands nervously and her voice trembled as she said good-night. Fleming Stone and the boy were moved, I could see that, but they made their adieux without reference to future meeting or further work on the mystery. We went away, and as we turned the corner, I started to cross the street to go to my home. "Come into the Van Allen house a few minutes, Calhoun," said Stone, gravely. "I've something to tell you." We went in at Vicky Van's. Stone's manner was ominous. He and Fibsy both were silent and grave-looking. We went in at the street door, into the hall and then to the living-room. Stone and I sat down, and Fibsy darted out to the dining-room, back to the hall and up the stairs, flashing on lights as he went. In silence Stone lighted a cigar and offered me one, which I took, feeling a strange notion that the end of the world was about to come. In another moment Fibsy came slowly down stairs, walked into the living-room, where we were, gave one look at Stone, and then threw himself on a divan, buried his face in the cushions and burst into tears. His thin little frame shook with sobs, great, deep, heart-rending, nerve-racking sobs, that made my own heart stand still with fear. What could it all mean? What ailed the boy? "Tell me, Stone," I begged, "what is it? What has upset him so?" "He has found Vicky Van," said Fleming Stone. "And it has broken his heart." "What do you mean? Don't keep me in this suspense! Where is Vicky? Upstairs?" "No," said Stone, "not now." "Explain, please," I said, beginning to get angry. "I will," said Stone. "No!" cried Fibsy, "no, Mr. Stone, let me t-t-tell. W-wait a minute, I'll tell. Oh, _oh_, I knew it all day, b-b-but I couldn't believe it! I _wouldn't_ believe it! Why, Mr. Calhoun, Vicky Van is--is--why, Mrs. Schuyler is Vicky Van!" CHAPTER XIX PROOFS AND MORE PROOFS