Dorothy ran to the door and caught hold of the knob. “Who’s there?” she cried.

“It’s I—Martin Lawson, Janet. May I come in?”

“Oh, please, Mr. Lawson, not right now.” There was a soft tone of pleading in her voice. “You see, I’ve been lying down and I’m not quite dressed.”

“But I thought I heard you speaking.”

“You did.” The real Janet, shivering by the window, caught her breath and heard Dorothy’s tone sharpen slightly. “To myself. Being cooped up like this for hours on end, I’m glad to hear the sound of my own voice. I often read aloud. But I’ll be ready shortly, if you want me.”

“All right, then. I’ll be back in five minutes. Your father is here and he wants to say goodbye.”

The key turned in the lock and with her ear close to the panel Dorothy was sure she could hear the faint tread of footsteps retreating down the hall. With her heart pumping sixty to the second, she dashed back to Janet and carefully raised the window.

“Heavens! that was a narrow squeak—” her cousin whispered shakily. “What nerve you’ve got! I nearly fainted—”

“Never mind,” Dorothy whispered back, “you’ve got to get out of here—and right now!”

“Oh, but I can’t, Dorothy. I’m afraid!”

Dorothy gave the signal rope two savage pulls. Almost immediately the cable began to tighten. “Close your eyes and hang on with both hands,” she ordered.

“But Dorothy—I’ll scream—I’m going to—I know it!”

“No, you won’t!” Quickly Dorothy clasped the frightened girl’s fingers around the taut cable. A dive into the pocket of Janet’s coat brought forth her own handkerchief which she hurriedly crumpled into a ball and thrust into her cousin’s mouth. The seat, with Janet in it, was rising slowly. She caught the paralyzed girl below the knees, steadied her as the crane drew its burden clear of the sill and pushed her carefully into the outer darkness. When Janet’s feet were on a level with the upper sash, she pulled down the window and shade and switched on the light again.

“Skies above!” Her breath came in short gasps and she leaned against the end of the bed to steady herself. “Talk about your thrills! That was worse than my first solo hop, by a long shot.” She ran her fingers through her short hair. “Let’s see—what next? Oh, yes—I was supposed to be lying down.”

She caught up a book from the table and tossed it open onto the bed. Then she lay down, rumpled the coverlet, made sure that the pillow showed the impression of her head, and sprang up again. An adventurous past had taught her the need of being thorough.

She went to the window and raising it, looked out and upward. Neither Janet nor the crane were in sight. Thankful that her cousin was safe at last, she pulled down the sash.

Two or three minutes later, when the door was unlocked, the two men who entered surprised her in the business of packing the contents of the top bureau drawer into Janet’s wardrobe trunk.

And now came as pretty a piece of acting as has ever been seen upon the stage; acting that Dorothy’s audience of two must not realize was acting, and furthermore, one of these men was the father of the girl she impersonated. Why hadn’t she remembered to ask Janet what she called that mysterious father of hers? Father, Papa, Dad, Daddy—which should she use? A mistake now would be fatal. Even her uncle must not become aware of her real identity. There was no time for hesitating. He was speaking now.

“Janet, my dear—” he began.

Dorothy ran to her uncle and throwing her arms about his neck, buried her head on his shoulder. “How could you leave me like this?” she wailed. “Why do you let these people keep me locked in my room? And now they are going to take me away!” Her voice grew louder, almost hysterical. She sobbed pathetically and clutched him a little tighter.

“My dear child—you mustn’t cry this way—you really mustn’t!” Mr. Jordan patted her back in the silly way men do when they want to be comforting. “Mr. Lawson and his wife will look after you in the country, while your Daddy is away.”

She released the embarrassed man, and pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbed her eyes with the cambric until she felt certain they looked bloodshot enough to pass inspection. “But I don’t want to go, Daddy. Please don’t let them take me,” she begged, her voice trembling as though she was using all her will power to gain self control. “If you can’t take me with you, why can’t I go back to school?”

“But that’s impossible, Janet. You are going to be Mrs. Lawson’s secretary. Don’t be foolish. All arrangements have been made.”

“Well, I’m eighteen,” said Dorothy with a show of temper. “My mother was a year younger than that when she ran away and married you. I am no longer a child. I don’t like being packed off like—like a bag of potatoes.”

“Are there any other reasons why you don’t want to come to Ridgefield with me?” Mr. Lawson spoke for the first time. His words fairly dripped with suspicion.

“Yes, there are.” Dorothy turned on him angrily. “Daddy goes off on a trip, and for reasons which appear to be a secret, you keep me locked in my room for more than a week, Mr. Lawson. And you seem to wonder why I resent it.”

“But you have been ill, my dear Janet.”

“If I’m so ill, why has no doctor been to see me?” Her voice was full of scorn.

“I have been keeping you under observation myself.”

“Quite possibly. I’ve been allowed to see nobody except that maid who acts as if she were deaf and dumb. If you are trying to tell me that I’m mentally deranged, I won’t stand for it! The mere fact that you now propose that I act as your wife’s secretary proves that you consider me capable. What right have you to keep me a prisoner in my own home? Who are you, Mr. Martin Lawson, to take upon yourself the regulating of my life?” Dorothy burst into angry tears.

“But my dear child—” protested Mr. Jordan. “I’ve never seen you behave like this—”

“No! And up to now,” she stormed, her eyes flashing, “you’ve never given me cause. In the first place I’m no longer a child—you forget that—and then—what kind of a life did you give me as a child? You are my father and you say that you love me, but can you expect deep affection from a daughter whom you ship to boarding school at five? You wouldn’t even let me visit friends during the holidays. For years at a time you never took the trouble to come and see me. How can you expect love and obedience after years of neglect?” She drew a sobbing breath, then went on: “For a while we traveled—you were nice to me—I enjoyed it. We settled down here. I forgave what you’d done to my childhood. I tried to make this flat a home for you, even though I was kept like a cloistered nun and you allowed me no friends. But this is going too far.”

“And what, may I ask, are you going to do about it?” inquired Lawson with a disagreeable smile.

“What can a defenseless girl without friends do to stop two big bullies? I shall go with you, Mr. Lawson, because I can’t help myself. But don’t expect me to like being used as a slave, even though I may be of some comfort to that long-suffering wife of yours. Oh, that makes you angry, does it? Well, let me tell you, that you are not half as angry as I am. You can practice your strong-arm methods on defenseless women and get away with it—some day you’ll try it on a man—and by the time he gets through thrashing you there won’t be enough left for the boneyard.” She flashed a smile of contempt on the furious man, and turned to Mr. Jordan who was speaking again.

“What has come over you, Janet?” he was saying. “I’ve never heard you speak so rudely to anyone before. You’ve always been such a quiet little mouse—”

“And you’ve taken advantage of it,” she interrupted. “What you forget is that even a mouse will turn and fight when it’s cornered. If you really loved me—if you had a spark of manhood in your selfish body, you’d thrash this man to within an inch of his life and throw him into the street. Get out of here—both of you!” she cried hysterically. “And please—no more silly arguments—I don’t want to be forced to say before outsiders what a contemptible person my father is proving himself to be.”

This last tirade seemed to stun Mr. Jordan. From the almost agonized expression on his face, she saw that at last conscience was at work. The man was utterly miserable. He could not hide it.

“Will you—will you be ready to leave in half an hour, Janet?” His voice was a mere whisper and shook with suppressed feeling.

“Yes, I’ll be ready. Go now, please—both of you!” She turned her back on them and walking over to the window, she threw up the shade and the sash. As she stood there staring into the night, she heard them leave the room.

This time the door shut without being locked. Dorothy streaked across the floor and pressed her ear to the keyhole. Just outside the men were talking.

“You’re a fool, Lawson, if you still think that Janet wasn’t asleep during the meeting,” she heard her uncle say. “Tonight proves it. And let me tell you this. From now on, my business and my home shall be kept separate and distinct. Never again will I allow myself to be placed in a position to be dressed down by my own daughter. There was no comeback either. Every word she said was gospel truth. It’s a terrible thing when a daughter makes her father realize what a low, cowardly creature he is at heart. Well, how about it? Aren’t you now convinced of her innocence?”

“I am.” Lawson clipped off the words, and as he went on speaking, there was insolence as well as a hint of nervousness in his tone. “But when it comes to giving me a thrashing, Number 5—well, I shouldn’t try it if I were you—not if you value your—er—health!”

“Stop talking like a fool!” retorted Janet’s father. “Is the girl to be sent to Ridgefield or not?”

“Now you’re talking rot, yourself,” snapped Lawson. “You know quite as well as I do that Laura won’t take our word for it. She told me this morning that any clever woman or girl for that matter, could twist a man around her finger without half trying. Laura wants to study your daughter herself—and that’s all there is to it.”

“I hope Mrs. Lawson has a pleasant time of it.” Mr. Jordan said sarcastically. “But I’m afraid my hope will not be granted.”

“Laura,” answered that lady’s husband, “can be rather disagreeable herself when she’s roused. Let us hope for Janet’s sake, that she doesn’t try her tantrums on my wife. By the way, what are you doing now?”

“Getting away just as fast as I can, thank you. No more scenes for me, tonight. I wouldn’t meet Janet on her way out of here for a million dollars!”

They moved further along the hall and Dorothy went slowly back to the window. Across the narrow court, two flights up, the shaded windows of Howard Bright’s flat shone a dull golden yellow in the black wall. For several minutes she stood watching the windows, her thoughts upon what she had done and what she had just heard.

Suddenly, shadows appeared on one of the yellow rectangles. The shade was raised and framed in the window were Janet and Howard. Just behind them stood a stranger who wore the round, conventional collar of a clergyman. The young couple were smiling happily. Both waved, and Janet held up her left hand.

Dorothy knew the significance of that gesture, and threw them a kiss. Then she saw the shade roll down, and she turned away.

“And so they were married and lived happily ever after.” She sighed. “Uncle Sanborn kept his promise, like the fine old sport he is.”

She stuffed the last of Janet’s belongings into the trunk, slammed it shut and locked it.

“Now for the dirty work—and Laura Lawson.” She smiled grimly and went to the closet for Janet’s hat and coat.