the surgery, whatever claim it may originally have had to the title, appeared now to be the doctor's den and smoking-room. mrs. bussey indicated that he would find the doctor there, and burton did not attempt to conceal from himself the pleasure with which he discovered that leslie was with her father, and that she gave no sign of any intention to beat an immediate retreat.

"how is my patient?" he asked, with an elaborate assumption of the popular physician's "bedside manner."

"mighty glad to see you," said dr. underwood, with a look that made the words go home. "leslie and i have been sitting here cultivating a magnificent crop of the blues. there was trouble enough before, but this affair--"

"is the best possible thing that could have happened, because it will bring matters to a crisis," answered burton. "i told you that i am firmly convinced that your son is innocent, and i hold to that belief in spite of the unnatural conduct of his father in feeling discouraged. i have been talking with mr. underwood in the jail."

"did you get any satisfaction out of your conversation?" asked the doctor dryly. "if you did, i'll engage you as my official interpreter."

"not very much concrete satisfaction, perhaps, but a good deal of subjective reassurance. i am firmly convinced that he is the victim, first, of his own pride and bitterness, and, second, of some unscrupulous enemy, who is taking advantage of the state of the public mind to throw unmerited discredit upon him."

"that's what leslie says. but how are we going to make it clear to the world at large? and things have now reached a point where the world at large will have to be taken into the family confidence to a disconcerting extent. leslie, i wish you were married and overseas."

leslie looked as though it might be a relief to her to allow her spirits to droop, but at this challenge she lifted her head gallantly.

"then you would put me to all the trouble and expense of a trip back overseas to come to you," she said promptly. "counsel to run away from trouble doesn't come with a good grace from you, father. you have never set me the example."

"you see what influence i have over my children," said the doctor, appealing to burton.

"i'm beginning to see. my sympathies go out to you. let us talk of some less distressing matter. for instance,--miss hadley." he glanced from one to the other as he spoke the name, but in neither face could he read the slightest consciousness. a curious impulse of masculine loyalty to henry made him hesitate to divulge the secret which henry had evidently guarded so carefully that it was unsuspected by his family. "i have just been calling on miss hadley," he added, in lame explanation. "i wanted to get some further particulars. but that really should be the work of your son's lawyer, doctor, and that's what i specially wanted to consult with you about. i want your permission to send for a real lawyer,--a big man who will bring the very best skill and experience to the case. you won't object?"

the doctor hesitated a moment before he answered.

"is a big man necessary if the case is to turn on facts? frankly, i can't afford a big lawyer, you know. i'd rather take a local man with a sickly family, so that i could work it out in bills! i know it sounds sordid, but that is the mercenary, habit of the world, and i can't hope to change it out of hand. i should be perfectly willing to ignore matters of that sort, but--the big lawyer wouldn't."

"i see," said burton, recognizing that one of the impossibilities in the case was any offer of financial assistance on his own part. "perhaps you are right. if we can simply establish the facts, we shan't need any hired eloquence to present them. they will speak for themselves. well, we will establish the facts."

"but how? how?" demanded leslie eagerly.

"i have one or two fragmentary theories in my mind. in the first place--"

but he got no farther, for there was suddenly an alarming clash and clatter in the back hall. both burton and leslie sprang for the door but the sight that met their eyes was not nearly so alarming as the noise. it was merely mrs. bussey, gathering up the broken pieces of a starch box which lay in curious proximity to a kitchen chair which stood in curious proximity to the transom of the door to the surgery.

"i was jest a-trying to get down them cobwebs," she gasped, and retreated hastily to the safe precincts of the kitchen with the unreliable box.

burton took up his theme as though he had not been interrupted, deeming it wisest to take no further notice of this curious domestic situation.

"your son does not wish to take advantage of his unquestionable privilege of bail," he said to the doctor. "he goes on the theory that things will continue to happen and that he will therefore be cleared by implication. i can't say i feel sure of it. this unknown enemy seems to be quite astute enough to suspend operations while mr. underwood is under lock and key, merely to avoid giving him the vindication which he would like to secure in that way. but perhaps it might be as well to let him carry out his plan for a time. it will probably give you a temporary respite from further disturbances."

"even that will be gratefully received," said the doctor wearily.

"it will at least give us time," said burton.

and then, feeling that his friends needed to be taken away from the thought of the burden which they were carrying, he turned the conversation upon impersonal matters. he deliberately laid himself out to be entertaining,--and the effort was more of a compliment than they were apt to realize. when finally he said good night, he had to admit that he had enjoyed the evening very much. of course it wouldn't do to ask miss underwood if she had had as good a time as he had,--but at any rate she had not looked bored. but then, she could hardly have told a man to his face that she found him dull!

his thoughts were running along after this idiotic fashion when he became aware that a man was following him in the street. he noticed it at first merely because the street was otherwise so entirely deserted, and it did not occur to him that the man was actually dogging him until he had turned a corner or two, and found that the man did the same. then he slackened his pace and the man fell back. by this time he began to be curious. he took a couple of unnecessary turns, and satisfied himself that the pursuit was no accident. then he turned sharply on his heel and made a jump toward his pursuer. but the man dodged, jumped from the sidewalk, and ran off between two buildings.

the incident puzzled burton, and made him somewhat uncomfortable. high ridge was a place of mysteries. also, he reflected, it was a place of very few policemen. was his pursuer a common street bandit, with designs on his purse, or was he connected with the underwood mystery and the warning that had been sent him at the hotel? the thought made him square his jaw. did they think to frighten him off? he would let them see!

he had turned aside from his most direct route to the hotel in this experiment, and he now found himself in a street with which he was not familiar, though he knew the general location. he turned in the direction where his hotel must be, and was glad to hear no longer the sound of feet behind him. suddenly from the shadow of a large business block, a man sprang out from a driveway and jumped at him. the attack was so sudden and so fierce and burton was so unprepared that for a moment he was borne backward and almost carried to the ground. how he recovered himself he could not have told. the primitive instinct of the fighting animal awoke within him, and perhaps some of the acquired skill of his college days came back. he knew that he was fighting for his life, for the hand that he had clutched held a knife, and there was no mistaking the vicious energy that his assailant was exerting. burton answered with a strength that he had not known he possessed. he felt the man's body yielding inch by inch under his clutch, and then suddenly it slipped away from his hands, and the man darted off and disappeared into the night, leaving burton panting and dishevelled and very much amazed. he had never before had occasion to defend his life,--he had always taken for granted that civilization would take that burden off the hands of any decent man. and yet here, in a quiet little village, where he was practically unknown, he had been assailed by some one who really wanted to kill him. he was quite sure that the man's object had not been merely thievish. his attack was personally vicious.

suddenly he remembered how he had kept selby cooling his heels in miss hadley's back parlor while he amused himself with miss hadley, and the satisfaction he had taken in the situation faded into a rather serious inquiry. selby was a man of violent temper who had no occasion to love him. but did he have occasion to hate him to the death? if so, there could be but one reason. he feared his investigations.