Lorelei, as Jim had said, was strong, and she fought the ruffian’s attack with the desperation of utter terror; but her shame at the indignity was so keen that she refrained as long as possible from crying for help.  Then, hearing her screams, the chauffeur stopped his car and made an investigation.  Fortunately for her, he was more of a man than most night-hawk drivers, and he promptly summoned an officer.

Miss Lynn’s girlhood friend waited for no test of the law; he beat a hasty retreat, uttering threats that rang in Lorelei’s ears and redoubled her previous fears.

Her wrists and arms bore purple marks, her dress was torn, her limbs shook from the effects of her struggle, and even when she had gained the security of her rooms she was unable to shake off her fright.  Neither could she sleep, for menacing forms crouched in the darkness:  most of the night she walked the floor in a panic.

She knew now that she was hunted; the man had told her so.  She felt like a deer cowering in a brake with the hounds working close.  Her cover seemed pitifully insecure.

Thus far Max Melcher’s campaign had worked even better than he had expected; and meanwhile he had employed Jim in assiduously cultivating Robert Wharton and arranging as many meetings as possible between Bob and Lorelei.  A short experience had taught Jim to avoid his victim in daylight, for in Bob’s sober hours the two did not agree; but once mellowed by intoxication, Wharton became imbued with a carnival spirit and welcomed Jim as freely as he welcomed every one.  Incidentally the latter managed to reap a considerable harvest from the association, for Bob was a habitual gambler, and the courteous treatment he received at Melcher’s place seemed to reconcile him to the loss of any amount of money.

When, on the morning after her distressing adventure, Lorelei sent for her brother and demanded vengeance upon her assailant he decided that it was time to test the issue.  He pretended, of course, to be ferociously enraged, but on learning over the telephone that the wretch had left the city he declared that there was nothing to be done except perhaps exact an explanation from Lilas.

Miss Lynn, however, could offer no excuse.  She was heartbroken at the occurrence, but she was too full of her own troubles to give way to her sympathy for others.  Jarvis Hammon, it seemed, had heard about the party, and was furious with her.

“You must expect to meet some muckers in this business,” she remarked, philosophically, “and you’ve had so much notoriety, my dear, that the fellow probably wouldn’t believe you were all right.”

Jim agreed.  “I guess you’ll have to forget it, Sis.  Just don’t think about it.  I’ll bring Wharton around to-night, and we four will have supper, eh?”

Lilas’s hesitation in accepting this invitation seemed genuine, but she acquiesced finally, saying with a short laugh:  “All right.  Maybe a little jealousy won’t hurt my lord and master.  He’s getting too bossy, anyhow.”