Mathison began to grow alarmed. Never had he felt the danger so near. If Hilda suspected the game he was playing and dropped a single hint, they were lost; he, at any rate. The Secret Service would not strike until he was out of this house. Such had been his order. But if this madwoman caught one glimmer of the truth!
"Come, Miss Farrington," he said.
"Very well. But always remember I tried to save you, Berta."
"Farrington, Farrington! And I had all but forgotten! One of the men here told me. Farrington, the Broadway celebrity, rich and famous! Oh, if I but had the time!"
"To injure me? You will not find it, Berta."
"No? Wait and see. To-morrow I shall search for the mother."
"You shall never find her. I wish you no evil. After all, you are still the child that was always touching the stove. Take care of yourself; and good-by forever, sister."
In reply The Yellow Typhoon sped across to the hall door, which opened with such violence that the knob was shattered.
"Go! I am ordered to free you. But for that!... Go! Meddle no more with my affairs, Hilda Nordstrom!"