lives long at pink little teas, and never know one another, while others just smile at each other across a station waiting-room—that's enough."
"I'm so glad," whispered the girl. "I never dreamed I'd meet any one like you—up here. Please, oh, please, be very careful. Neither Car- gan nor Max is armed. Bland is. I should never forgive myself if you were hurt. But you won't be—will you?"
"I may catch cold," laughed Mr. Magee; "oth erwise I'll be perfectly safe." He went into the room and put on a gay plaid cap. "Makes me look like Sherlock Holmes," he smiled at the girl framed in the window. When he turned to his door to lock it, he discovered that the key was gone and that it had been locked on the outside. "Oh, very well," he said flippantly. He buttoned his coat to the chin, blew out the candles in num ber seven, and joined the girl on the balcony.
"Go to your room," he said gently. "Your worries are over. I'll bring you the golden fleece inside an hour."
"Be careful," she whispered. "Be very care ful, Mr.—Billy."
