"You haven't any appointment, then?"

"No."

"Do you think for one moment that you can get in to see Mr. Marston

without giving your name and explaining beforehand the nature of your

business?"

"I hoped so, for it is important."

"What is it?"

"It's private--it's something for Mr. Marston."

"Impossible!" was the man's curt rejoinder. He went back to his post. In

a few moments he returned to Mayo. "You mustn't remain here. You cannot

see Mr. Marston."

"Won't you take in a message from me? I'll explain--"

"Explain to me. That's what I'm here for."

Telling that cold-blooded person that this visitor was the broken master

of the Montana was out of the question. To mention the case of the

Montana to this watchdog was dangerous. But Mayo dreaded to go back to

the street again.

"I'll stay here a little while and perhaps I can--" he began.

"If you stay here without explaining your business I'll have you

escorted down to the street by an officer, my friend."

Mayo rose and hurried out.

"An officer!" Even in his despairing and innocent quest of a hearing

he was threatened with arrest! He sneaked back to his lodgings and hid

himself in the squalid apartment and nursed the misery of his soul.

That night Mayo sat till late, toiling over a letter addressed to Julius

Marston.

He despatched it by messenger at an early hour, and mustered his courage

in the middle of the forenoon and followed in person. He assumed a

boldness he did not feel in his quaking heart when he approached the

guardian of the outer office.

"Will you ask Mr. Marston if he will see the man who sent him a letter

by messenger this morning?" "What letter? Signed by what name?" "He will

understand what letter I refer to." "He will, will he?" The attendant

gave this applicant sharp scrutiny. The coast-guard captain's liberty

garments were not impressive, nor did they fit very well. Mayo displayed

the embarrassment of the man who knew he was hunted. "Do you think Mr.

Marston receives only one letter by messenger in a morning? Look here,

my man, you were in here yesterday, and I look on you as a suspicious

character. You cannot see Mr. Marston on any such excuse. Get out of

that door inside of one minute or I'll send in a police call!"

And once more Mayo fled from the danger which threatened him. He bought

a stock of newspapers at a sidewalk news-stand; his hours of loneliness

in his little room the day before had tortured him mentally. He sat

himself down and read them. The news that the Vose line had gone into

the steamship combination was interesting and significant. Evidently the

Montana's lay-up had discouraged the mass of stockholders. He had

time to kill and thoughts to stifle; he went on reading scrupulously,

lingering over matters in which he had no interest, striving to occupy

his mind and drive the bitter memories and his fears away from

him. Never in his life before had he read the society tattle in the

newspapers. However, dragging along the columns, he found a paragraph

on which he dwelt for a long time. It stated that Miss Marston of

Fifth Avenue had returned by motor from a house-party in the Catskills,

accompanied by Miss Lana Vanadistine, who would be a house guest of Miss

Marston's for a few days.




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