yours truly. But, say--it was a battle!"

Mrs. Knight ran down slowly, like a clock. This sudden and
unexpected triumph had gone to her head; she could talk only of
dollars and cents. In her fancy she juggled huge sums of money;
she drew extravagant pictures of a glittering future in which the
whole family figured. Throughout this sordid chatter, with its
avaricious gloatings and endless repetitions, Lorelei sat
listless, her thoughts far from pleasant. It had required this
final touch to make her fully feel her wretchedly false position.

As mother and son were leaving, Jim managed to get a word in
private with his sister.

"Don't weaken," he cautioned her. "Lynn's gone, and it's all over.
We've got the whip-hand on all of 'em--Hammon, Merkle, Bob, Lilas
--everybody. We've got 'em all, understand? We've landed BIG!"

When she was alone Lorelei gave a sigh of relief, which changed to
a sob as the sense of her helplessness surged over her again. She
was worn out, and yet she could not rest. She longed for the open
air, and yet she dreaded to show herself abroad, fearing that some
one would read her secret. Thoughts of the evening performance at
the theater filled her with unfamiliar misgivings--she wondered if
she could appear in public without breaking down. SHE knew well
enough who had fired that shot--would others fail to suspect? The
secrecy in which the whole affair was veiled seemed terribly
artificial; it was impossible that such a barefaced conspiracy to
suppress the truth could long remain undiscovered. And--if Hammon
died, what then? He was reported to be very low; suppose he became