"So the police feel sure. They say they caught him this morning in the attempt to commit another robbery. The Arsdale curse is upon him."
"Oh," she cried, "that is terrible."
But as he had guessed, it was good news also. There was no longer any doubt of who brought that wallet to the bungalow. There was no longer the grim suspicion of who might have rifled her rooms. The spectres which had seemed to be moving nearer and nearer her brother vanished instantly. That burden at least was lifted from her shoulders, even though it was replaced by another.
"Poor Marie! Poor Marie!" she moaned.
"I think she may suspect this," he said. "But it will be better for you to tell her than the police."
"Yes, I must go to her at once."
Arsdale came to the door, his face strangely agitated. He paused there a moment clinging to the curtains. Then, almost in awe, he came unsteadily towards Donaldson. The latter straightened to meet him. The boy started to speak, choked, and, finding Donaldson's hand, seized it in both his own. Then with his eyes overflowing he found his voice.
"How am I ever going to repay you for this?" he exclaimed in a daze.
Elaine was at his side in an instant.
"What is it, Ben? What is it now?"