These preparations made, the girl’s heart quickened as the fateful moment came.  The prompt response from Central was heavenly music.  The Logan family had not studied economy and cut off their telephone.  “Give me the nearest police station quick!” she added to the number, and at the sound of an hysterical note in her voice Logan’s hand was on the door knob.

If the wedge failed she was lost.  But bending over the desk, the receiver at her ear, she dared not turn to see what was happening.

“You young devil!  Let me in, or you’ll be sorry all your life!” Logan shouted through the door, giving the heavy oak panels a kick.

“Is that the police?” Win spoke loudly that Logan might hear.  She gave the number of the house, then hurried on:  “For God’s sake send at once.  The house is shut up, but by a trick a girl has been brought in by young Mr. Logan.  She’s in great danger.  It’s she who is calling—­begging for help—­quick—­quick—­he’s here!”

Crash! The door flew wide and banged against the wall, Logan almost falling into the room as the wedge shook loose.  Slipping on the smooth parquet, he lost his balance for an instant, and before he could reach the girl to snatch the receiver from her hand, she had dashed through the door and into the hall.  There she would have been stopped by the servant if she had not dodged under his arm and darted into the dining-room.  Once in, she slammed the door shut in the face of Logan’s man, and fumbled wildly to turn the key her trembling fingers found.

Something was wrong—­or else it was the fault of those shaking fingers.  The key would not turn.  Win set her shoulder to the door and pushed against the panels with the whole strength of her slim body.  But it was not enough.  The door gave and pushed her back.  Then, realizing that she could not hold it against superior force, she suddenly let go and ran to stand at bay behind the table.

When Jim Logan, all the latent brutality in him wide awake, came bounding over the threshold she faced him across his silver and flowers and glittering glass.

“Come here!” he said in a voice curiously unlike the jovial tones she had known as his.

“No!” she panted.  “I’ll stay where I am till the police arrest you as a kidnapper.”

“You’ll not stay!” he flung at her.  “If you won’t come out of that, I’ll fetch you.”

The girl stood behind one of the two chairs drawn up to the table and both hands convulsively clutched the high, carved back.  But seeing him spring toward her, she lost her nerve for the first time.  Trying to make a screen of the chair, she felt the floating gauze of her dress catch on some unseen nail or splinter of broken woods struggled to tear it free, and found herself in Logan’s arms.  The shrill sound of ripping stitches and tearing gauze mingled with the sharp blow of the girl’s palm on the man’s ear, and his oath breathed hot on her cheek.