burton's policeman picked up two other men on the way, and, thus re?nforced, they made their way to rowan street. it was away past midnight and as they went through the silent streets, burton had a queer feeling that he was taking a part in some strange melodrama in an alien world. never before had he come into direct personal contact with the world where policemen were important people, and where the primitive affairs he had supposed represented the dregs of human nature were matters of every-day occurrence. why hadn't henry underwood had sense enough to be satisfied with his narrow escape of the night before?

there was a light burning in the surgery as they approached the house,--a fact to which higgins, the first policeman, called attention.

"that light sometimes burns all night," he said, pursing up his lips.

"any city ordinance against it?" asked burton.

higgins looked up with a slow question in his eyes.

"you will stay with me, mr. burton," he said quietly. "o'meara and hanna, you go to the rear of the house and see that he doesn't make a get-away."

he rang the bell at the front door, and stepped instantly back, so that he could keep an eye on the whole front of the house. in a minute the door was opened wide and dr. underwood, in a dressing-gown, stood there peering out into the dark.

"who wants me?" he asked.

higgins stepped quickly inside, and as soon as burton, who followed in his wake, had entered, he closed the front door, turned the key and slipped it into his pocket.

"excuse me," he said, in a brisk undertone. "no one wants you, doctor. i want mr. henry underwood."

"you want him, higgins? what for?"

"assault."

"assault? henry? you're crazy. henry hasn't spirit enough to assault any one. i'd bail him out with the greatest joy in the world, if he did. whom did he assault, in the name of goshen?"

"mr. hadley."

"hadley! well, there may be something to the boy, after all. when did this happen?"

"just now, tonight. i don't want any trouble, but i don't want any foolishness, either. i've got to arrest him, you know, doctor. it ain't what i may choose to do about it. so will you take me up to his room at once, before he hears me or takes an alarm?"

"you always were an unfortunate man, higgins, but it is mighty hard luck that you should have to show the whole community what an idiot you are. it is kind of hard to be made a fool of in such a public way. henry is abed and asleep and has been for hours."

"then i'll have to wake him and if you'll excuse me, doctor, i can't let you give him any more time by this palaver. will you take me to his room, or shall i hunt for it myself?"

underwood glanced at burton and wrinkled his face into an unbetraying mask, but as he led the way upstairs he walked more slowly and draggingly than he had done in the afternoon, and burton's heart ached for him.

"that's his room," he said, pointing to a closed door. the gleam of light along the lower edge showed plainly that the occupant was still up.

higgins went to the door with a catlike silence and swiftness and laid his hand on the knob. it turned without resistance and he burst in upon henry underwood, half undressed. the bed had not been disturbed. the scattered clothing on the chairs showed that he had just come in from outdoors.

"what does this mean?" henry demanded, with a look of amazement.

"you are under arrest," said higgins. "don't try any tricks. my men are about the house."

"what am i arrested for?"

"for assault on mr. hadley. and i warn you that anything you may say will be used against you."

"this is all foolishness, you know," henry said, but his voice was spiritless and unconvincing, and dr. underwood groaned involuntarily.

"i haven't anything to do with that. all i have to do is to carry out orders. and i'll have to ask you to change your shoes. no, you don't!" he sprang forward and caught henry roughly as the latter, at the word, rubbed his muddy shoe upon the rug on which he was standing. "we want your shoes, fresh mud and all. just take them off, will you?"

"take them off yourself," growled henry, with a black look.

higgins whistled and the two other men answered, one by melodramatically dropping in through the open window, and the other by appearing at the door. "take off his shoes,--carefully, mind you. we want that mud on them. and get another pair for him, if you can find them."

he motioned henry to sit down, but instead of dropping obligingly into the nearest chair, henry stalked indignantly across the room and threw himself down on an upholstered lounge. then he thrust out both feet before him with an arrogant air, and the two policemen, who had followed him closely, dropped on their knees and unfastened and removed his shoes. higgins, who was proud of himself for thinking of a detail which might prove important, watched the process so closely that he paid no attention to anything else. underwood, who leaned heavily against the door-casing, watched his son's face with a look that was something like despair. but burton, who stood silently at one side, watched henry, and so saw an apparently casual motion that took his right hand from the vicinity of his breast pocket to the inner edge of the upholstered seat of the lounge.

"well, what next?" henry asked brusquely, when the men had shod him.

"you will come with us," said higgins.

he rose without a word, and reached for his hat and coat.

"henry!" the word broke from dr. underwood like a cry. "have you anything to say to me?"

henry gave him one look, and then dropped his eyelids.

"i think not," he said, with a curious air of deliberation.

"i'll come and see you to-morrow, my boy."

henry nodded carelessly, and turned to higgins.

"i'm ready," he said briefly.

"one moment," said burton. "how is your cut finger? i think i'd better look at it before you go." and without waiting for permission, he picked up henry's hand and examined the forefinger which had been cut the evening before. henry had dressed it carelessly with court-plaster, but it was evident that the finger was both stiff and sore.

but henry was far from being a model patient. he pulled his hand away with a look of surprise and resentment at burton's touch. "that's nothing," he said impatiently. "what are you waiting for, higgins?"

"you," replied higgins succinctly, slipping his hand under henry's elbow.

dr. underwood followed the little procession downstairs and did not notice that burton lingered for a moment in the room. he lingered without moving until henry was out of eyeshot, and then jumped to the sofa and ran his long fingers between the upholstered back and seat. it did not take more than a minute to satisfy his curiosity. then he hurried downstairs, where he found a forlorn group.

mrs. underwood, tragically calm, sat like a classic statue of despair in a large armchair, while the doctor, who had evidently been explaining the situation to his family, limped painfully and restlessly about the room. leslie, erect, and with hands clenched and head thrown back, followed him with her eyes.

"i think henry is insane," she said deliberately.

dr. underwood glanced apprehensively at burton, who just then appeared in the doorway. then he dropped into a chair with a groan.

"i forgot my confounded ankle," he said, in lame explanation.

mrs. underwood turned her gaze slowly upon him. "don't prevaricate, roger," she said coldly. "you did not groan because of your ankle, but because henry's sin has found him out. i should think that you would at least see the importance of keeping clear of future sin."

"may i come in?" asked burton. there was something strange in his voice,--a quality that made every one turn toward him expectantly, as though he brought a message. "may i venture a word? of course you know that i know what has happened. i came here with the officer because i felt that my interest in everything touching the honor of your family warranted me in seeing this unfortunate affair through as far as possible. i say unfortunate, because of course it must add to your annoyance temporarily. but i do not think it will do more than that. in fact, i think it may be the means of really getting at the truth that lies under this mass of misunderstanding. i do not think that henry underwood is insane,--or that he had anything to do with mr. hadley's plight. i believe him innocent and honorable, and i am going to bend every energy i possess to proving him so."

he had spoken to all, but his eyes rested eagerly on leslie, and at his last words she sprang impulsively forward and caught his hand in both her own.

"oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried.

"leslie, control yourself," said mrs. underwood, in calm reproof.

dr. underwood got upon his feet, with entire disregard of his ankle, and crossed the room to burton.

"have you any ground for that opinion, beyond an optimistic disposition and a natural desire to spare the family of your patient?" he demanded. "god knows i want to believe you,--but--" he broke off and shook his head.

burton hastily realized that he was hardly justified, at this point, in making his own grounds for assurance public.

"well,--his cut finger is sufficient. he couldn't tie all the knots that bound hadley with that stiff finger," he said, with a would-be astute air.

underwood could not conceal his disappointment. "you have nothing definite, then, to go upon?"

"perhaps my evidence, in the present stage, would not be conclusive in court. but that is what i hope to make it. that is what i am definitely undertaking to do. and i believe i shall succeed." he smiled at leslie, and though she did not repeat her impulsive demonstration of gratitude, he was satisfied with the look in her eyes.

on his way back to the hotel, he suddenly stopped under the trees and spoke to himself impatiently. what difference did it make to him what sort of a look there was in the eyes of philip's betrothed? he would be better employed in considering the situation of the underwoods in the light of this new revelation about the silent henry. if henry was in love with miss hadley--and why else should he carry a locket with her portrait in his breast pocket and think first of all of concealing this trinket when threatened with arrest and fearing a search?--then there was a reasonable explanation of his prowling in the neighborhood of the hadley house. burton had thrust the locket back into its hiding-place in the upholstered lounge, but he could not be mistaken. it was the same face that he had seen looking up at selby,--hello! no need to hunt further for an explanation of the antagonism between the two men! the look on selby's face when he talked so earnestly to miss hadley was one of the few human expressions that can neither be concealed nor counterfeited. and since nothing could be more reckless, hopeless and bitter, than love between the daughter of the pompous banker and the scapegoat of the town, why, of course, that was the mine that cupid would fire.

but if henry was innocent, who was the man who was so bent on making him appear guilty? who really was behind the high ridge mystery? the problem was not solved. it was merely made more complicated. and burton had to acknowledge that his guess was not evidence that would convince the public. indeed, now that he was half an hour away from it, he began to wonder at his own confidence. it had come to him like a revelation, but it needed verification.

very well, he said doggedly, he would verify a part of it at once. he would call on miss hadley to-morrow.