AT the Grand Central Station Mr. Fenton and Tory found not only Dr. McClain and Dorothy awaiting them, but Mr. Jeremy Hammond.

Tory’s first impression was surprise at his unexpected presence. She had not seen him since the summer before in Beechwood Forest, when he had insisted upon investigating more thoroughly the evergreen cabin in quest of information with regard to Katherine Moore. Nothing had come of the search save a package of letters apparently of no importance.

During the winter Kara had written that Mr. and Mrs. Hammond had come frequently to see her, bringing the small girl whom they had adopted from the Gray House on the Hill.

Not the faintest envy had ever influenced Kara. Tory had never been able to dispel a slight resentment that Mr. Hammond’s choice had fallen upon the exquisite wilful little girl rather than upon Kara.

Mr. Hammond had come to the Gray House to seek for Kara. She was the child he had167 discovered in the deserted cabin years before. His sudden fascination with Lucy’s youth and beauty caused him to disregard Kara’s finer possibilities. However, he had afterwards proved himself Kara’s friend and been deeply interested in her recovery. Tory concluded that she had no right to harbor any grievance. Assuredly Kara would seriously object to such an emotion.

The instant after greetings had been exchanged, Dorothy slipped her arm through the newcomer’s and drew her apart from the others.

Tory found herself afraid to look closely at her friend.

Would Dorothy’s face reveal strain and unhappiness from the past few days.

“Lance?” she queried with the first glance, and felt a sense of relief before the reply.

Dorothy appeared grave, even disturbed, but not unhappy.

“No, there is nothing the matter with Lance. In fact, he has had a piece of rare good fortune. We are to go to Mr. Hammond’s office as soon as you and Mr. Fenton have left your bags at a hotel. Father must return to Westhaven as soon as possible and wants to talk to you first. Please don’t ask questions.168 It is all too involved and mysterious to make you understand anything. I don’t understand, although I have heard every detail.”

“One thing I must ask: Has the mystery to do with Kara?”

Dorothy nodded.

“Yes, but not what you think!” which was something of a triumph as an answer that was valueless.

To save time, Mr. Fenton and Tory agreed to go directly to Mr. Hammond’s place of business, which was not far away. He had a private office and their interview, that appeared to be secret, would not be interrupted. A telephone message secured the necessary hotel accommodations.

Tory’s surroundings made a vivid impression upon her, although she was scarcely aware of having done more than glance about her in the hour that followed.

On one of the highest floors in a tall building Mr. Hammond’s office windows commanded a magnificent view of the city—the broken skyline, the matchless harbor, dotted with ships from the seven seas, the network of fairy-like bridges crossing to Long Island.

Tory sat in a small, straight-backed chair near one of the windows, with Dorothy close169 beside her. Their faces were turned away from the distant vista and their eyes upon the central figure in the group of three men.

Mr. Hammond was in his office chair near his roll-top desk.

His usual somewhat careless, debonair expression had altered to one of concern.

“I am going to ask Hammond to tell you the story,” Dr. McClain explained. “He has more experience with this sort of thing. I confess a country doctor comes in touch with more curious and romantic circumstances than most people imagine. This is a more complicated situation than I am accustomed to handling. Personally, I am disturbed; I don’t know what to believe or the next step to take.”

“You are not making the reason for our unexpected summons to New York any plainer,” Mr. Fenton returned, smiling at his older friend’s preoccupation.

Tory gave a suppressed sigh to suggest the eagerness of her own interest, but managed to make no remark.

“It is difficult to know just where to start,” Mr. Hammond added. “Dr. McClain is right. The story contains a number of puzzling details that make it hard to accept. Yet170 there is no point in Moore’s telling anything that is not the truth. He has nothing to gain except added responsibility. And in a day or so he claims he will be able to offer more definite proof. In the interval, Mr. Fenton, Dr. McClain and I decided to ask not only your advice but your niece’s. Had we best go on, or let the affair drop here.”

“Yes; but oh, what is it you are talking about?” Tory demanded, unable to keep silence longer.

Mr. Hammond smiled.

“I don’t wonder you are growing restless, but please listen carefully. There are so many circumstances and chance meetings that have to be interwoven.

“In the first place, Lance McClain tells his father and sister that quite by accident he came in contact with a Mr. Moore. It seems that he is a musical chap and appears to be rich and cultivated. Well, he took an interest in Lance. He confided to me he thinks the boy a kind of a genius and wants to help him.

“In the early part of their acquaintance they talked of nothing but music and Lance’s ambition to set the world on fire by to-morrow or next day, also the fact that his family had not the proper faith in him. By and by171 Lance seems to have announced that his father was a fairly good sort, except for this weakness, and was a physician in the town of Westhaven.

“Lance tells me Westhaven awakened Mr. Moore’s interest at once. Moore wanted to know the size of the place and its exact position, who the prominent people were and what towns were nearby. With the aid of a railroad map and time-table the questions were not difficult to answer. Afterwards Lance could supply him with the town’s social history. The boy declares he was puzzled to understand any cause for his new friend’s interest in Westhaven, but for some reason felt in honor bound not to inquire.

“This is where I enter the mystery story.”

At this instant Tory leaned forward, her lips parted. Would Mr. Hammond at last reveal the point in all his past ten minutes’ conversation? What possible difference could it make to any of them whether a complete stranger happened to care to hear unimportant facts concerning the town of Westhaven? Once more it occurred to Tory that the village was not of such supreme moment as its inhabitants considered it.

“I was reading the paper one morning when idly my eyes fell upon an advertisement172 signed Moore, asking that some one from Westhaven communicate with the writer. I recalled the fact that one or two of the letters we discovered in the evergreen cabin were signed ‘Moore.’

“If I had not been going to see Kara at the time and felt tremendously concerned over her misfortune, I don’t believe I would have paid any attention to the notice. I chanced to see Kara that same afternoon. We laughed over it and I promised to reply to the advertisement, hoping it might be entertainment for her. The child was having such a hopelessly dull and trying time!”

She had not intended to speak, but Tory was given to impetuous utterance of her opinions and emotions.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Hammond. I thought you were not in the least interested in Kara, that you cared only for Lucy. I hoped you would have chosen to adopt Kara when you came for the purpose to the Gray House on the Hill.”

Tory abruptly stopped, feeling, rather than seeing, that her uncle’s eyes were upon her, reproving her for the interruption.

Mr. Hammond did not appear seriously annoyed.

173 “Perhaps I should, Tory, but there is no accounting for other people’s wishes and tastes. I wanted a younger child than Kara, and Lucy fascinated me. You are mistaken, however; if I was not interested by Kara at that first meeting, afterwards I learned to admire and care for her. If you will try and wait for the end of my story, perhaps you may find that Kara had a better fortune in store for her than I could bestow.”

“I have always kno............