Mary dismissed Garson presently, and betook herself to herbedroom for a nap. The day had been a trying one, and, thoughher superb health could endure much, she felt that both prudenceand comfort required that she should recruit her energies whilethere was opportunity. She was not in the least surprised thatDick had not yet returned, though he had mentioned half an hour.

　　At the best, there were many things that might detain him, hisfather's absence from the office, difficulties in makingarrangements for his projected honeymoon trip abroad--which wouldnever occur--or the like. At the worst, there was a chance offinding his father promptly, and of that father as promptlytaking steps to prevent the son from ever again seeing the womanwho had so indiscreetly married him. Yet, somehow, Mary couldnot believe that her husband would yield to such paternalcoercion. Rather, she was sure that he would prove loyal to herwhom he loved, through every trouble. At the thought a certainwistfulness pervaded her, and a poignant regret that thisparticular man should have been the one chosen of fate to beentangled within her mesh of revenge. There throbbed in her aheart-tormenting realization that there were in lifepossibilities infinitely more splendid than the joy of vengeance.

　　She would not confess the truth even to her inmost soul, but thetruth was there, and set her a-tremble with vague fears.

　　Nevertheless, because she was in perfect health, and was muchfatigued, her introspection did not avail to keep her awake, andwithin three minutes from the time she lay down she wasblissfully unconscious of all things, both the evil and the good,revenge and love.

　　She had slept, perhaps, a half-hour, when Fannie awakened her.

　　"It's a man named Burke," she explained, as her mistress layblinking. "And there's another man with him. They said theymust see you."By this time, Mary was wide-awake, for the name of Burke, thePolice Inspector, was enough to startle her out of drowsiness.

　　"Bring them in, in five minutes," she directed.

　　She got up, slipped into a tea-gown, bathed her eyes in cologne,dressed her hair a little, and went into the drawing-room, wherethe two men had been waiting for something more than a quarter ofan hour--to the violent indignation of both.

　　"Oh, here you are, at last!" the big, burly man cried as sheentered. The whole air of him, though he was in civilian'sclothes, proclaimed the policeman.

　　"Yes, Inspector," Mary replied pleasantly, as she advanced intothe room. She gave a glance toward the other visitor, who was ofa slenderer form, with a thin, keen face, and recognized himinstantly as Demarest, who had taken part against her as thelawyer for the store at the time of her trial, and who was nowholding the office of District Attorney. She went to the chairat the desk, and seated herself in a leisurely fashion thatincreased the indignation of the fuming Inspector. She did nottrouble to ask her self-invited guests to sit.

　　"To whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Inspector?" sheremarked coolly. It was noticeable that she said whom and notwhat, as if she understood perfectly that the influence of someperson brought him on this errand.

　　"I have come to have a few quiet words with you," the Inspectordeclared, in a mighty voice that set the globes of thechandeliers a-quiver. Mary disregarded him, and turned to theother man.

　　"How do you do, Mr. Demarest?" she said, evenly. "It's fouryears since we met, and they've made you District Attorney sincethen. Allow me to congratulate you."Demarest's keen face took on an expression of perplexity.

　　"I'm puzzled," he confessed. "There is something familiar,somehow, about you, and yet----" He scrutinized appreciativelythe loveliness of the girl with her classically beautiful face,that was still individual in its charm, the slim graces of thetall, lissome form. "I should have remembered you. I don'tunderstand it.""Can't you guess?" Mary questioned, somberly. "Search yourmemory, Mr. Demarest."Of a sudden, the face of the District Attorney lightened.

　　"Why," he exclaimed, "you are--it can't be--yes--you are thegirl, you're the Mary Turner whom I--oh, I know you now."There was an enigmatic smile bending the scarlet lips as sheanswered.

　　"I'm the girl you mean, Mr. Demarest, but, for the rest, youdon't know me--not at all!"The burly figure of the Inspector of Police, which had loomedmotionless during this colloquy, now advanced a step, and the bigvoice boomed threatening. It was very rough and weighted withauthority.

　　"Young woman," Burke said, peremptorily, "the Twentieth CenturyLimited leaves Grand Central Station at four o'clock. It arrivesin Chicago at eight-fifty-five to-morrow morning." He pulled amassive gold watch from his waistcoat pocket, glanced at it,thrust it back, and concluded ponderously: "You will just abouthave time to catch that train."Mary regarded the stockily built officer with a half-amusedcontempt, which she was at no pains to conceal.

　　"Working for the New York Central now?" she asked blandly.

　　The gibe made the Inspector furious.

　　"I'm working for the good of New York City," he answeredvenomously.

　　Mary let a ripple of cadenced laughter escape her.

　　"Since when?" she questioned.

　　A little smile twisted the lips of the District Attorney, but hecaught himself quickly, and spoke with stern gravity.

　　"Miss Turner, I think you will find that a different tone willserve you better.""Oh, let her talk," Burke interjected angrily. "She's only got afew minutes anyway."Mary remained unperturbed.

　　"Very well, then," she said genially, "let us be comfortableduring that little period." She made a gesture of invitationtoward chairs, which Burke disdained to accept; but Demarestseated himself.

　　"You'd better be packing your trunk," the Inspector rumbled.

　　"But why?" Mary inquired, with a tantalizing assumption ofinnocence. "I'm not going away.""On the Twentieth Century Limited, this afternoon," the Inspectordeclared, in a voice of growing wrath.

　　"Oh, dear, no!" Mary's assertion was made very quietly, but withan underlying firmness that irritated the official beyondendurance.

　　"I say yes!" The answer was a bellow.

　　Mary appeared distressed, not frightened. Her words were anironic protest against the man's obstreperous noisiness, no more.

　　"I thought you wanted quiet words with me."Burke went toward her, in a rage.

　　"Now, look here, Mollie----" he began harshly.

　　On the instant, Mary was on her feet, facing him, and there was agleam in her eyes as they met his that bade him pause.

　　"Miss Turner, if you don't mind." She laughed slightly. "Forthe present, anyway." She reseated herself tranquilly.

　　Burke was checked, but he retained his severity of bearing.

　　"I'm giving you your orders. You will either go to Chicago, oryou'll go up the river."Mary answered in a voice charged with cynicism.

　　"If you can convict me. Pray, notice that little word 'if'."The District Attorney interposed very suavely.

　　"I did once, remember.""But you can't do it again," Mary declared, with an assurancethat excited the astonishment of the police official.

　　"How do you know he can't?" he blustered.

　　Mary laughed in a cadence of genial merriment.

　　"Because," she replied gaily, "if he could, he would have had mein prison some time ago."Burke winced, but he made shift to conceal his realization of thetruth she had stated to him.

　　"Huh!" he exclaimed gruffly. "I've seen them go up pretty easy."Mary met the assertion with a serenity that was baffling.

　　"The poor ones," she vouchsafed; "not those that have money. Ihave money, plenty of money--now.""Money you stole!" the Inspector returned, brutally.

　　"Oh, dear, no!" Mary cried, with a fine show of virtuousindignation.

　　"What about the thirty thousand dollars you got on thatpartnership swindle?" Burke asked, sneering. "I s'pose youdidn't steal that!""Certainly not," was the ready reply. "The man advertised for apartner in a business sure to bring big and safe returns. Ianswered. The business proposed was to buy a tract of land, andsubdivide it. The deeds to the land were all forged, and thesupposed seller was his confederate, with whom he was to dividethe money. We formed a partnership, with a capital of sixtythousand dollars. We paid the money into the bank, and then atonce I drew it out. You see, he wanted to get my moneyillegally, but instead I managed to get his legally. For it waslegal for me to draw that money--wasn't it, Mr. Demarest?"The District Attorney by an effort retained his severe expressionof righteous disapprobation, but he admitted the truth of hercontention.

　　"Unfortunately, yes," he said gravely. "A partner has the rightto draw out any, or all, of the partnership funds.""And I was a partner," Mary said contentedly. "You, see,Inspector, you wrong me--you do, really! I'm not a swindler; I'ma financier."Burke sneered scornfully.

　　"Well," he roared, "you'll never pull another one on me. You cangamble on that!"Mary permitted herself to laugh mockingly in the face of thebadgered official.

　　"Thank you for telling me," she said, graciously. "And let mesay, incidentally, that Miss Lynch at the present moment ispainlessly extracting ten thousand dollars from General Hastingsin a perfectly legal manner, Inspector Burke.""Well, anyhow," Burke shouted, "you may stay inside the law, butyou've got to get outside the city." He tried to employ anelephantine bantering tone. "On the level, now, do you think youcould get away with that young Gilder scheme you've beenplanning?"Mary appeared puzzled.

　　"What young Gilder scheme?" she asked, her brows drawn inbewilderment.

　　"Oh, I'm wise--I'm wise!" the Inspector cried roughly. "Theanswer is, once for all, leave town this afternoon, or you'll bein the Tombs in the morning."Abruptly, a change came over the woman. Hitherto, she had beencynical, sarcastic, laughing, careless, impudent. Now, of asudden, she was all seriousness, and she spoke with a gravitythat, despite their volition, impressed both the men before her.

　　"It can't be done, Inspector," she said, sedately.

　　The declaration, simple as it was, aroused the official to newindignation.

　　"Who says it can't?" he vociferated, overflowing with anger atthis flouting of the authority he represented.

　　Mary opened a drawer of the desk, and took out the documentobtained that morning from Harris, and held it forth.

　　"This," she replied, succinctly.

　　"What's this?" Burke stormed. But he took the paper.

　　Demarest looked over the Inspector's shoulder, and his eyes grewlarger as he read. When he was at an end of the reading, heregarded the passive woman at the desk with a new respect.

　　"What's this?" Burke repeated helplessly. It was not easy forhim to interpret the legal phraseology. Mary was kind enough tomake the document clear to him.

　　"It's a temporary restraining order from the Supreme Court,instructing you to let me alone until you have legal proof that Ihave broken the law.... Do you get that, Mr. Inspector Burke?"The plethoric official stared hard at the injunction.

　　"Another new one," he stuttered finally. Then his anger soughtvent in violent assertion. "But it can't be done!" he shouted.

　　"You might ask Mr. Demarest," Mary suggested, pleasantly, "as towhether or not it can be done. The gambling houses can do it,and so keep on breaking the law. The race track men can do it,and laugh at the law. The railroad can do it, to restrain itsemployees from striking. So, why shouldn't I get one, too? Yousee, I have money. I can buy all the law I want. And there'snothing you can't do with the law, if you have money enough....

　　Ask Mr. Demarest. He knows."Burke was fairly gasping over this outrage against his authority.

　　"Can you beat that!" he rumbled with a raucously sonorousvehemence. He regarded Mary with a stare of almost reverentialwonder. "A crook appealing to the law!"There came a new note into the woman's voice as she answered thegibe.

　　"No, simply getting justice," she said simply. "That's theremarkable part of it." She threw off her serious air. "Well,gentlemen," she concluded, "what are you going to do about it?"Burke explained.

　　"This is what I'm going to do about it. One way or another, I'mgoing to get you."The District Attorney, however, judged it advisable to use morepersuasive methods.

　　"Miss Turner," he said, with an appearance of sincerity, "I'mgoing to appeal to your sense of fair play."Mary's shining eyes met his for a long moment, and before thechallenge in hers, his fell. He remembered then those doubtsthat had assailed him when this girl had been sentenced toprison, remembered the half-hearted plea he had made in herbehalf to Richard Gilder.

　　"That was killed," Mary said, "killed four years ago."But Demarest persisted. Influence had been brought to bear onhim. It was for her own sake now that he urged her.

　　"Let young Gilder alone."Mary laughed again. But there was no hint of joyousness in themusical tones. Her answer was frank--brutally frank. She hadnothing to conceal.

　　"His father sent me away for three years--three years forsomething I didn't do. Well, he's got to pay for it."By this time, Burke, a man of superior intelligence, as one mustbe to reach such a position of authority, had come to realizethat here was a case not to be carried through by blustering, byintimidation, by the rough ruses familiar to the force. Here wasa woman of extraordinary intelligence, as well as of peculiarpersonal charm, who merely made sport of his fulminations, andshowed herself essentially armed against anything he might do, bya court injunction, a thing unheard of until this moment in thecase of a common crook. It dawned upon him that this was,indeed, not a common crook. Moreover, there had grown in him acertain admiration for the ingenuity and resource of this woman,though he retained all his rancor against one who dared thus toresist the duly constituted authority. So, in the end, he spoketo her frankly, without a trace of his former virulence, with avery real, if rugged, sincerity.

　　"Don't fool yourself, my girl," he said in his huge voice, whichwas now modulated to a degree that made it almost unfamiliar tohimself. "You can't go through with this. There's always a weaklink in the chain somewhere. It's up to me to find it, and Iwill."His candor moved her to a like honesty.

　　"Now," she said, and there was respect in the glance she gave thestalwart man, "now you really sound dangerous."There came an interruption, alike unexpected by all. Fannieappeared at the door.

　　"Mr. Edward Gilder wishes to see you, Miss Turner," ............