The mistress of the Marshall mansion turned a dazed glance upon the social secretary, uttered a little shriek of recognition and embraced her.
"Oh, my dear child! You're safe!"
"Of course. Please come up-stairs."
Suddenly Aunt Caroline stiffened and thrust her away.
"What do you know about this?" she demanded.
"Nothing—absolutely nothing. Oh, please come away. You mustn't stay here."
"I am entitled to remain in my own library," said Aunt Caroline, in stern tones. "And I propose to stay here until I discover exactly what this means."
And as she stood in the middle of the cleared space, she looked far more like a conqueror than Kid Whaley.
Bill Marshall, who had been standing in an awed trance at the doorway, abruptly came to life. He leaped forward with a yell. Aunt Caroline, the Kid, the Bearcat, the seconds, the crowd—all had vanished from his vision. He saw nobody but the social secretary. Her he gathered into his arms, lifted clear of the floor and hugged violently to his breast.
"Oh, girl," he muttered. "Oh, girl, but I'm glad to see you."