VIII - By What Means––––––––
THE night was full of restlessness. Tracy and Professor Hardwick, in their adjoining rooms, were the only ones in the wing that had the night before also housed Braye and Gifford Bruce.
“Shall we leave the door between open?” Tracy asked, more out of consideration for the Professor’s nerves than his own.
“Yes, if you will. And don’t go to bed yet. I can’t sleep, I know, and I must discuss this thing with somebody, or go mad!”
“All right, sir,” and Tracy took off his coat and donned an old-fashioned dressing-gown.
Hardwick smiled. “That’s the first ministerial garb I’ve seen you wear,” he said. “I’d pick that up for a dominie’s negligée every time!”
“I’m rather attached to the old dud,” and Tracy patted it affectionately. “Queer, how one comes to love a wo
