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There was a pause in which Ilingsworth's eyes sought the floor. Presently he looked up and held out his hand.

"Miss Wilkinson," he said contritely, "for what I've done, or tried to do this afternoon, I suppose you could have me put in jail—in an asylum. If I had only myself to think of, I shouldn't mind. However, I beg you to keep it to yourself, if you feel you can. I see things clearer now...."

Leslie took the offered hand.

"But you weren't going to shoot Leslie Wilkinson, if he'd been a man?"

Ilingsworth shook his head.

"To tell the truth, Miss Wilkinson, I wasn't. My intention was to frighten him...."

"You succeeded admirably," she answered, with a frank laugh. Then she added: "What were you going to frighten him into doing?"

Ilingsworth's hand strayed to his forehead.

"I was going to compel him to sign a check, turn over stock, restore to me my quarter of a million, somehow."

The girl smiled as she asked:

"But how could he do it in this room? Surely you didn't expect him to have any stocks or money here? And if he gave a check, you know payment on it could be stopped the instant you had left. And, anyway, how could you get out unscathed? I can't just see how you could...."