I must go on, for, after all, it is not my soul that matters, but Jerry's. It was quite an hour after Jerry disappeared before I began to suspect that he had gone to Briar Hills. The last I had seen of him was when he was on his way up the stair to his own room. But when I sought him there a short while afterward, I could not find him, nor was he anywhere in the house. I questioned the servants, telephoned the garage. All the machines, including Jerry's own roadster, were in the building. I went out to question the gardeners and found a man who had seen Jerry awhile before, entering the path into the woods behind the house. Mr. Benham was hatless, the fellow said, and walked rapidly, his head bent. Even then I did not suspect where he was going. I thought that he had merely gone to "walk it off," a phrase we had for our own cure for the doldrums. But as the moments passed and he did not return, I took Jack into confidence, and expressed the fear that he had gone to Briar Hills for a reckoning with Marcia and Lloyd.
A worried look came into Jack's face, but he shrugged his shoulders.
"Let him. It's time. We can't do anything."
"We might try."
"What?"
"Go there before damage is done, bring him home."
"And make ourselves ridiculous."
"Oh, that—! I don't care."
"Well, I do. You've got to let this problem work itself out, Pope. It's gone too far. He's on the brink of disillusionment. Let it come, no matter how or what."
"But violence—!"