Theodore King was rallying rapidly in the hospital. All danger of blood poison had passed, and though he was still very weak, his surgeon had ceased to worry, and the public at large sat back with a sigh, satisfied that the wealthiest and most promising young citizen in the county had escaped death at the hand of an assassin.
One morning a telephone message summoned Molly Merriweather to the hospital. In extreme agitation she dressed quickly, telling Mrs. King she would return very soon. Never had she been so hilariously happy. Jinnie Grandoken had disappeared, as if she had been sunk in the sea. Molly now held the whip hand over her husband; she could force him to divorce her quietly. It was true of them both now their principal enemies were out of the way. Theo was getting well, and would come home in a few days.
While she had thought him dying, nothing save Jordan’s tales of the girl’s experiences in the gorge house had been able to rouse her to more than momentary interest.
With glowing cheeks she followed the hospital attendant through a long corridor to Theodore’s room. She entered softly and for a moment stood gazing at him admiringly. How very handsome he was, even with the hospital pallor! When the sick man became cognizant of Molly’s presence, he turned and smiled a greeting. He indicated a chair, and she sank into it. 300
“You sent for me, Theodore?” she reminded him softly, bending forward.
“Yes.”
He was silent so long, evidently making up his mind to something, that Molly got up and smoothed out his pillow. Theodore turned to her after she had reseated herself.
“Molly,” he began, “do you know where Jinnie Grandoken is?”
Molly’s eyelids narrowed. So he was still thinking of the girl!
“No,” she said deliberately.