Coe went away, and Elsie went straight to her room. She denied admittance, when Gerty begged for it, and said she wanted to rest.
But rest, she did not; in fact she was such a victim of unrest, worry and anguish, that morning found her in a high fever and grave danger of nervous collapse.
The doctor came, a nurse was summoned and for a few days brain fever was feared. But Elsie’s strong constitution and brave will power conquered, and she pulled through without the dreaded attack.
The doctor ordered, however, a change of scene, were it ever so small a journey, and after some discussion Elsie agreed to go to Atlantic City for a few days.
Coley Coe was the one who finally persuaded her to adopt the plan. He promised to keep in constant touch with her and tell her any bit of information he could gain. He said he would come down to see her as often as necessary for their mutual conference, and he felt sure that she would be better off in every way from her family for a time.
He had slept in Kimball Webb’s room several nights, since, and as he anticipated, nothing at all had happened.
“You see,” he said, “the rascal thought he could make it appear supernatural, now he knows I’m on his trail, he has given up that idea.”
“How does he know it?” asked Elsie. “Is he omniscient?”
“Nearly so! You may depend he knows every step that is taken toward his discovery! Why, Miss Powell, he’s a man in the know, every way. He may not be one of Mr. Webb’s own particular circle, socially, but he’s enough in his set or in his life somehow, to be in touch with everybody even remotely connected with the case.”
“Have the police done nothing at all?”