^p*" 00 *******^ %-/ 
 
THE BOOMERANG 
 
A girl, slim and young, was standing timidly before him 
 
THE BOOMERANG 
 
 A NOVEL BASED ON THE PLAY 
 OF THE SAME NAME 
 
 BY 
 
 DAVID GRAY 
 
 Author of "Gallops I," "Gallops 
 II," "Mr. Carteret," etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 NORMAN PRICE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE CENTURY CO. 
 
 1918 
 
Copyright, 1918, by 
 THE CENTURY Co 
 
 Published, October^ 1918 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 A girl, slim and young, was standing tim- 
 idly before him Frontispiece 
 
 PACING 
 PAGE 
 
 A slim, ungloved hand was thrust out .... 8 
 
 "You've got this pretty bad,'' said Jerry ... 96 
 
 Budd's heart beat joyfully 102 
 
 "Joy and love," he repeated 174 
 
 ''Why, Budd," Grace exclaimed, ''you certainly have 
 
 changed a lot" 200 
 
 The thing that had twice before that evening at- 
 tacked him came back again 218 
 
 "I dare say that was wise," he said dryly . . . 240 
 
 5762GS 
 
PART I 
 
THE BOOMERANG 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AS the crowd streamed from the train to the 
 Fliielen steamboat landing a voice shouted in 
 the speech of the Vierwaldstatter and, receiving no 
 response, shouted again. Now the speech of the 
 four cantons is said to resemble High German of 
 the twelfth century, but on that account it is not 
 more intelligible. 
 
 Among those upon whose ears the station offi- 
 cial's remarks fell were three young men. As to 
 Mr. Marchbanks and the Hon. Augustus Mildway, 
 these utterances might as well have been made in 
 Choctaw. However, they were normally curious 
 young men. 
 
 "Jerry," said Marchbanks, appealing to the third 
 member of the party, "what is the fellow trying to 
 say? Is it anything to eat or drink?" 
 
 "No," replied Jerry. "Come along." 
 
 Now this answer on the part of the third young 
 
 man addressed as Jerry was a proper enough an- 
 
 3 
 
4 THE 'BOOMERANG 
 
 swer. It was truthful. It was to the point. 
 There were a limited number of seats on the boat, 
 and what seemed the entire floating population of 
 summer Switzerland aimed to be seated in them. 
 It was reasonable that if they did not "come along" 
 they would have to make the voyage to Lucerne 
 standing. Yet something either in Jerry's tone or 
 manner stirred a suspicion in the minds of his 
 companions. 
 
 The station official's shouting was repeated. 
 Mildway stopped. 
 
 "I 'm going to find out about this," he said. 
 "We may be missing something." He addressed 
 the porter who was bearing his kit-bag. 
 
 "Somebody is sick," said the porter in English. 
 "They want a doctor." 
 
 Jerry's face showed exasperation. Mildway 
 grinned and seized one of Jerry's arms. 
 
 "So that 'sit!" he said. 
 
 "Of course you 've got to take the case," said 
 Marchbanks, gravely. 
 
 "It 's his JEsculapian oath," said Mildway. 
 "We 're morally responsible." 
 
 "Stop your nonsense," said Jerry. 
 
 Obviously here was a potential case of "Le 
 medecin malgre lui." There was no doubt what 
 Jerry intended to do. .ZEsculapian oath or no 
 
THE BOOMERANG 5 
 
 ^Esculapian oath, he was going to get a seat on the 
 boat. On the other hand, to his friends boats and 
 seats were minor considerations. They were at 
 the age when the serious things of life have no ap- 
 peal. They had a chance at Jerry's "goat," as he 
 would have said, and they meant to take it. 
 
 At this juncture the station official came up, still 
 shouting. 
 
 "Hi!" called Marchbanks. He pointed at 
 Jerry. "Artz! Doctor!" 
 
 "Zo!" said the station official. 
 
 "Dr. Sunnier, famous American," explained 
 Mildway, blandly. "Best shot of the season at 
 Monte Carlo, very moderate horseman, but excel- 
 lent golfer." 
 
 The station-master gazed blankly. He knew no 
 English. 
 
 "Stop your ragging!" said Jerry, wrathfully. 
 
 The official addressed him in Vierwaldstatter 
 German. Jerry replied in Berlinese. There 
 seemed to be a deadlock when a middle-aged Swiss 
 gentleman appeared. 
 
 "May I ask which of you is a physician?" he 
 inquired in correct English. 
 
 Simultaneously Marchbanks and Mildway 
 thrust their companion forward. 
 
 "This is Dr. Sumner of the United States of 
 
6 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 America and Paris, France," said Mildway, cere- 
 moniously. "He would have come at once, but 
 he assumed there were others at hand more mature 
 in the profession." 
 
 "It is nothing serious," said the Swiss. "Any 
 doctor will do. My wife injured her ankle in 
 alighting from the train. If you could relieve the 
 pain " He paused and looked appealingly at 
 Jerry. 
 
 Jerry blushed. 
 
 "I 've never practised," he said. "If there 's 
 no one else, of course I '11 do what I can." 
 
 "Go to it," whispered Marchbanks. "They 're 
 the people who had the girl with them. They got 
 on two stations back. She was a peach." 
 
 Gerald cast dark looks at his friends and fol- 
 lowed the stranger. 
 
 Making his way through the crowd that sur- 
 rounded the door of the private office of the res- 
 taurant, the Swiss knocked. A dismal moan fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 "My wife is very apprehensive of doctors," he 
 said gloomily. "Be patient with her." 
 
 Then a girl's voice called to them in German a 
 delightful voice, making that guttural tongue soft 
 and alluring. 
 
 "Is that madame?" asked Jerry. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 7 
 
 "My niece," whispered the Swiss. "She wishes 
 to know shall my wife take her shoe and stocking 
 off. As I said, she is apprehensive." 
 
 Jerry addressed himself to the unseen voice. 
 
 "She 'd better leave it on," he called in Ger- 
 man. "The best thing is to get her home or to 
 some hotel as quickly as possible." 
 
 "That 's what I 've told her," the voice answered 
 from the other side of the door. "Hot water is 
 what she really needs." 
 
 The girl's voice was not only delightful, but her 
 words indicated common sense and an inspiriting 
 grasp of the situation. Jerry felt an instant confi- 
 dence in her. 
 
 "That's the thing," he called. "There's no 
 fracture?" 
 
 "No," came the answer. "I 've flexed it. Just 
 a sprain, but very painful." 
 
 The wife moaned confirmingly. Jerry thrust 
 his hand into his pocket and brought out a little 
 bottle of tablets. "Here 's some codeine," he 
 called. "They 're two-grain tablets. Give her 
 two, and if the pain does n't stop in twenty minutes, 
 give her two more." 
 
 The apprehensive, unseen wife moaned again. 
 A soft "Danke schon" followed; the door opened 
 slightly, and a slim, ungloved hand was thrust out. 
 
8 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Jerry deposited the bottle in it. For an instant his 
 fingers touched it. To the sense of touch the hand 
 proved as smooth and delightful as the voice, also 
 as sensible and efficient as its directing intelligence. 
 The door closed again. 
 
 "I think that will be all right," Jerry said to the 
 husband. "Get a doctor as soon as you can." 
 Then he beat his retreat. On the platform beside 
 the boat he rejoined his companions. 
 
 "Did you operate?" inquired Marchbanks. 
 
 He answered with a dark look which suggested 
 that he would like to operate on Marchbanks with 
 some blunt and deadly instrument. 
 
 "I 've lost my toothache pills," he said. 
 
 "And that is human gratitude," said Mildway. 
 "I start him upon his chosen profession and give 
 him a chance to cultivate a most delightful-looking 
 lady" 
 
 "How about the lady?" Marchbanks broke in. 
 
 "I did n't see her," said Jerry and followed the 
 porters aboard the boat. 
 
 "Jerry," said Marchbanks, when they were 
 settled on the steamer deck, "you say you did n't 
 see the girl?" 
 
 Jerry nodded. 
 
 "And you did n't notice her when she got on the 
 train?" ' 
 
A slim, ungloved hand was thrust out 
 
THE BOOMERANG 9 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, all I can say, is that it was n't like you. 
 She was a good deal out of the common a very 
 spiritual type." 
 
 Mildway burst into a roar of laughter. 
 
 "We '11 draw Lucerne for her, Marchy. We '11 
 find her for him. After his service to the family 
 it ought to be. It must be. Like you, I 'm strong 
 for romance." 
 
 "What makes you think we '11 find her in Lu- 
 cerne?" asked Jerry. 
 
 "They had Lucerne railway tickets," said Mild- 
 way. "I got that from the station officer through 
 the bilingual porter." 
 
 As they steamed down the Lake of Uri the sub- 
 ject was dropped. Mildway became absorbed in 
 sight-seeing. He announced that he was a better 
 patient after beholding the Rutli. Then they 
 passed Brunnen and turned into the main lake with 
 the prospect of Pilatus and Rigi before them. 
 Toward sunset they reached Lucerne. 
 
 At a quarter of eight that evening Marchbanks 
 knocked at Jerry's door. An absent-minded 
 "Herein" bade him enter. 
 
 "We 've found your girl," Marchbanks said ex- 
 citedly. "Mildway and I were strolling about, and 
 blessed if we did n't run into them coming up the 
 
10 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 hill in a motor-car. They live in a big house with 
 a wall around the garden in what you 'd call the 
 Mayfair district." 
 
 Jerry tossed the letter that he had been reading 
 on to the table. 
 
 "Sit down," he said. 
 
 Marchbanks shot him a look. 
 
 "I say," he exclaimed, "no bad news nor any- 
 thing like that?" His banter had gone. 
 
 "No," said Jerry. "No one ill or dead. It 's a 
 letter from my governor. He wants me to come 
 home." 
 
 Marchbanks appeared relieved. 
 
 "But if he 's all right, why go home?" he ob- 
 served. "Home is a good place to have measles." 
 
 "He wants me to come home," said Jerry in a 
 queer voice, "and start my practice of medicine." 
 
 Marchbanks gazed at him blankly. 
 
 "Your practice of medicine?" he exclaimed. 
 "Good heavens, man, you don't expect to practice 
 medicine!" 
 
 "Marchy," said Jerry, "I don't know what I ex- 
 pect to do. I 've never thought about it. Of 
 course I came over with that as a purpose and I 've 
 knocked about year after year with that as an ex- 
 cuse. I know as well as you do that it would be 
 
THE BOOMERANG 11 
 
 criminal for me to prescribe for a valuable dog, 
 but I can't write that to the governor." 
 
 Marchbanks considered the situation thought- 
 fully. Jerry's attitude of mind perplexed him. 
 He failed to see why Jerry could n't write it to his 
 governor. 
 
 "He 's never been short with you about money 
 or anything?" he asked. 
 
 Jerry shook his head. 
 
 "That 's the trouble. He 's been too decent." 
 
 "Well," said Marchbanks, triumphantly, "he '11 
 be decent when you tell him the pill business is a 
 mistake. If you don't want to write him, take a 
 run over next winter and have a talk. Tell him 
 you 've changed your mind about medicine and 
 think of studying art." 
 
 Jerry gazed at him hopelessly. 
 
 "You don't get the idea," he said. "He expects 
 me to come home and stay there." 
 
 "Oh, no; not as bad as that!" said Marchbanks, 
 earnestly. "It can't be anything like that, or he 'd 
 never have given you such a free hand. You don't 
 understand parents. Now listen! What happens 
 is this: first, a joyless reception. Then the ex- 
 plosion in the library, with passionate word pictures 
 of the family plate sold and the girls going out as 
 
12 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 housemaids. Then two days of unpleasantness 
 after which they 're jolly glad to have you get away 
 again. The thing to do is to shoot out the whole 
 horrible truth the first thing. It gets it off your 
 mind and makes the unpleasantness so violent that 
 it can't last." 
 
 Jerry shook his head. Somehow he could n't 
 picture himself telling the whole horrible truth. 
 
 "You don't understand the situation, Marchy," 
 he said. "The governor has been so good to me 
 that it makes me ashamed. I could n't tell him. 
 I almost wish I 'd worked." 
 
 "But you don't have to earn your living." 
 
 Jerry shook his head. 
 
 "No," he said: "but, you see with us every man 
 that 's worth the powder to blow him up does some- 
 thing." 
 
 "Same with us," said Marchbanks. "Only we 
 prefer huntin' and polo to pills and law. Person- 
 ally, I favor shootin' and fishin'. But God knows 
 I 'm no idler." 
 
 Jerry laughed. 
 
 "What you don't understand is that nothing is 
 expected of you except to decorate the land- 
 scape, whereas I am expected to be useful. In 
 Elmford, Marchy, you would be accounted a bad 
 lot." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 13 
 
 "What sort of place is this Elmford?" March- 
 banks asked thoughtfully. 
 
 "Well," said Jerry, "first there 's the river, then 
 the railway station, then Main Street, then Elm 
 Street, and the square. There 's a bunch of old 
 families, a plow factory, a button works, and the 
 Eagle Hotel. I suppose, all told, there are about 
 thirty thousand people in the place. The principal 
 diversion is going to New York." 
 
 "Sounds rather awful," said Marchbanks in a 
 subdued tone. 
 
 "My father loves it," Jerry went on. "I don't 
 know why unless it 's because his father loved it. 
 My sister likes it because she 's never lived any- 
 where else. She may marry the son of the button 
 works or the paying teller in the bank or a bright 
 young lawyer. Those are the eligible dancing 
 
 men." 
 
 "And I suppose," suggested Marchbanks, "that 
 you will marry the daughter of the plow works 
 and have twelve children and grow a family physi- 
 cian's whiskers." 
 
 "Well, that's the question," said Jerry. "I 
 imagine it 's what the governor would like, only the 
 family physician is a little out of the picture. 
 You 've got to know some medicine to be a family 
 physician." 
 
14 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Well, there 's only one best way out of it," said 
 Marchbanks, sagely, "and that is not to lose weight 
 worrying. Something will turn up. You '11 see. 
 And now get washed and clad in suitable raiment, 
 and I '11 scout for dinner and some proper cham- 
 pagne." He moved toward the door, but stopped 
 before he got there. "I say, old man," he said 
 affectionately, "there 's no chance of your doing 
 anything that will interfere with the grouse-shootin' 
 next month?" 
 
 "I don't know," Jerry answered. "The gov- 
 ernor mentions no special time for me to sail." 
 
 "Well, you know we are counting on you from 
 August twelfth on. There are only six guns. You 
 can't run out. The family would never speak to 
 me if you did." 
 
 "The Lord knows I don't want to," Jerry an- 
 swered. 
 
 "Well, that 's a date, as you say," said March- 
 banks, "whatever happens." He went out. 
 
 Ten minutes after he had gone Jerry was still 
 sitting by the window with his father's letter before 
 him. He knew that he had come to a parting of 
 the ways. The sign on the cross-roads was plainly 
 labeled. He loved his father. He could not con- 
 ceive not loving him, for his father had always be- 
 haved in an altogether lovable manner toward him. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 15 
 
 Yet he was not at all ready to leave the roving, 
 cosmopolitan life of Europe that he had drifted 
 into. He was aware that the picture that he had 
 drawn of Elmford for Marchbanks was far from a 
 veracious one. There was much that was delight- 
 ful about Elmford; yet, compared with Paris and 
 London and the things they implied, Elmford ex- 
 cited no compelling hold upon his heartstrings. 
 All the tentacles of his daily life for eight years 
 clung to Europe and ached in protest at the pros- 
 pect of being torn loose and told to fasten upon the 
 little New England city. 
 
 Emile, his valet, came softly in with hot water, 
 arranged a tin bath-tub, and lighted the candles. 
 He surveyed his work, saw that it was good, and 
 paused before departing. 
 
 "Is there anything monsieur wishes?" he asked. 
 
 Jerry rose abruptly and squared his shoulders. 
 
 "Emile," he said, "do you want to go to America 
 with me?" 
 
 "Mais oui" the man answered promptly. "Is 
 it permitted that I inquire when we start?" 
 
 "To-morrow," was the answer. "Cook's will 
 still be open. Get tickets and accommodations on 
 the first ship we can make from Cherbourg or 
 Southampton." He took a handful of notes from 
 his pocket-book. "And you need n't mention our 
 
16 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 leaving to Mr. Marchbank's servant," he added. 
 
 "Bien, Monsieur," said Emile and departed. 
 
 Jerry began to take off his clothes with a mixture 
 of emotions. In the main it was a sense of relief, 
 almost elation, that possessed him. He had known 
 that the break would have to be made sometime. 
 Now he had made it. He was doing the right thing 
 and he felt at peace. But he shrank from further 
 argument with Marchbanks. In a fashion March- 
 banks represented those eight delightful years of 
 luxurious drifting and playing at work. March- 
 banks in the present situation was the tempter. He 
 must flee from him. He dined with his friends 
 and talked shooting till midnight. Then he went 
 to his room and scribbled a note for Marchbanks: 
 
 I 'm off in the morning. I Ve got to do it. If I 
 can get back for August 12 I '11 cable. Love to Mildway. 
 Help each other to be moderately good, and if you meet 
 the beautiful niece marry her and wire me about it. 
 
 G. S. 
 
 His impulse had been to cable his father that he 
 was sailing, but on second thought he decided 
 against it. They would meet him in New York, 
 kill the fatted calf, and generally make a fuss over 
 him. He wanted nothing of that sort. It would 
 be hard enough to explain that he was a failure at 
 
THE BOOMERANG | 17 
 
 medicine without any of the welcome-home stuff. 
 When he arrived he would arrive, and that was all 
 there was to it. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 FORTY-EIGHT hours later Jerry boarded the 
 Aquitanic. The first supporting flush of 
 conscious virtue had died in him like drink. He 
 felt like an extradited man, going home to face life 
 imprisonment. He saw joy nowhere or any pros- 
 pect of joy. He understood the feeling of the 
 prodigal son on his return trip. 
 
 The passenger list held no name that he knew. 
 His first inspection of his fellow-passengers deep- 
 ened his gloom. Fate and the second steward had 
 determined his place at table and apparently 
 neither had been kind. On his left was a citizen 
 of Chillicothe, returning from a German cure. 
 This man talked of nothing but diabetes. On his 
 right was a shoe salesman who talked of nothing 
 but shoes. Opposite sat a stout lady who never 
 spoke at all. Her enthusiasms ran to food. 
 
 "This is going to be a pleasant voyage," he said 
 to himself, gloomily. By lunch time on the second 
 day the single interest he had been able to arouse 
 in his fellow-beings was in the stout lady's system 
 of transporting food around the promontory of her 
 
 18 
 
THE BOOMERANG 19 
 
 chest. It was not a large interest, but a genuine 
 one. The system depended upon a rhythmical 
 bending forward to meet the approaching mouth- 
 ful that seemed like the measured swing of oars- 
 men. While watching her discreetly from the 
 corner of his eye, he suddenly observed that when 
 she was at full reach there was disclosed a momen- 
 tary vista of the table diagonally beyond. Now 
 the central feature of this vista was a girl's head in 
 profile. It was not a commonplace profile. A 
 mass of black hair was drawn neatly from the nape 
 of the neck, disclosing a pleasant ear. A little 
 nose started skyward, but stopped at exactly the 
 right point. The corner of the mouth, which was 
 all he could see of that feature, was entirely de- 
 lightful. 
 
 His interest immediately shifted from the stout 
 lady's transportation system, but unfortunately as 
 she finished the course and straightened up she 
 blocked the vista. While waiting for the next 
 course Jerry considered his discovery from the 
 point of view of a philosopher. Experience told 
 him that the promise of such a profile was not likely 
 to be fulfilled. He recalled bitter instances. His 
 life had been a series of just such disappointments. 
 He debated the advisability of suppressing his curi- 
 osity as to the frontal aspect of the face. Why 
 
20 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 not preserve it always in profile? Why take 
 chances? A Solomon, a Socrates, would let well 
 enough alone. Acting on the dictates of philoso- 
 phy, he left the table before the stout lady had 
 finished, and retreated to the smoking-room for 
 coffee. 
 
 The next morning some decent-looking chaps in- 
 vited him to play bridge, and he played two agree- 
 able rubbers with a loss of twenty-six dollars. 
 The third rubber he cut out and was not sorry as 
 he was holding unimaginably bad cards. He 
 found a seat on the transom where the sun streamed 
 in, and retired into his own thoughts. It was ap- 
 proaching noon. If Marchbanks and Mildway 
 held to their program they were at this moment on 
 the beach at Trouville. He could see it all in his 
 mind's eye the color, the life, the gaiety. Pres- 
 ently two Jerrys seemed to be contemplating the 
 scene. One longed to be sitting on the warm sand 
 with the sense of reckless enjoyment that idleness 
 and luxury bring to youth. The other was shaking 
 his head doubtfully. Echoes of a Puritan heredity 
 were whispering searching questions. What did 
 that pleasant life lead to? Why did the old-look- 
 ing middle-aged men who had lived it from boy- 
 hood have the faces they had? Why were they al- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 21 
 
 ways bored? Why did they talk as if life was over 
 at fifty? Why were the women always having 
 nerves and jumping out of high windows? There 
 was something wrong about it. 
 
 As these men were, so would Marchbanks be 
 after thirty years of pleasure-hunting; so would 
 Jerry be if he kept along with them. It was not a 
 pleasant outlook. There must be a better way. 
 Perhaps, after all, there was something in strain and 
 effort, something in the old-fashioned virtues that 
 Marchbanks smiled at. The men who got the most 
 fun out of life were those who worked and enjoyed 
 work. They won going and coming, for their 
 work made their play enjoyable. Why had he 
 been such a fool? Why had n't he seen so obvi- 
 ous a fact? Why had n't he worked with a little 
 seriousness? What made the situation worse was 
 the impossibility of shielding his father from the 
 consequences already accrued and taking the whole 
 thing on his own shoulders, where it belonged. 
 The truth would hit the governor hard. There was 
 no dodging that. He would have to make it up 
 to him in other ways. Various plans to this end 
 began to shape themselves in his mind. He would 
 learn business so as to take up the management 
 of the family estate. He would forswear woman 
 
22 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 and devote his life to filial piety. Somehow in 
 some way he would make good at something even 
 though he had failed at medicine. 
 
 However, a man of thirty-two with abounding 
 health and sufficient money is not able to keep his 
 mind on repentance indefinitely. When the third 
 officer came in and announced the run, he found 
 himself winner of the hat pool, amounting to 
 twenty-one pounds. The turn of his gambling luck 
 cheered him. It also reminded him that the higher 
 philosophy is not to cry over spilled milk or to 
 cross bridges till one comes to them. 
 
 As the bugle blew for lunch, he stepped out upon 
 the deck. There was a game of throwing rope 
 rings in progress, conducted by two young men and 
 a girl. The first glance identified the girl. It was 
 she of the profile. The first glance also refuted 
 those warning dictates of experience. She was 
 all the profile had suggested, perhaps more. 
 
 Academically Jerry was an advocate of blondes. 
 He had been born that way; yet he was open- 
 minded. What he saw now convinced him that 
 there are indeed two sides to the question. Ele- 
 mentally it was a manifestation of superabundant 
 youth speaking through the curves of a lithe body, 
 through color that flushed under a golden skin, 
 through eyes that danced with the zest of the game: 
 
THE BOOMERANG 23 
 
 and the game was not putting rope rings over a 
 stick. 
 
 As a matter of fact the vision was bad at that. 
 But one look at the young men indicated the direc- 
 tion of her talents. They were subjugated, ab- 
 ject, ridiculous, and all this on the third day out! 
 She finished throwing the rings, which one of the 
 victims of love handed her, without looking at the 
 new-comer; yet Jerry knew that she had inspected 
 him, and that the inspection was complete. As to 
 what her verdict was she gave no intimation. 
 When the game of rings was finished, she smiled 
 upon each young man individually and vanished. 
 
 Now to man generally the manifestation of youth 
 and loveliness in the human female is not only an 
 agreeable phenomenon, but a stimulant. Jerry 
 had done pretty well with philosophy and health 
 in dispelling the gloom that was logically his por- 
 tion, but he now found further assistance. The 
 problem that awaited him at his journey's end was 
 no nearer solution, but the effect of stimulated 
 heart action was to make it seem less important. 
 It is thus that woman tends to maintain the life of 
 man in hopeful perspective. It was thus that 
 Jerry, in full possession of his faculties and as it 
 were with wilful intent, became, as they say, inter- 
 ested in the young lady in question. 
 
24 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Early in the afternoon he observed signs that 
 the established order of things as regards the young 
 men and the object of their worship had undergone 
 certain dislocations. First one then the other of 
 the love-birds wandered into the smoking-room, 
 lighted cigarettes, and ordered whisky and soda. 
 Obviously she had withdrawn herself. At the end 
 of the rubber he cut out and reconnoitered the 
 decks. After some search he found her in her 
 chair on the port side, amidships, reading to her 
 mother. He passed on with an inward chuckle. 
 He knew what the business of reading to mother 
 meant. She was through with the love-birds. As 
 a collector she was interested in new specimens, 
 and for the moment he happened to be the speci- 
 men. He went back and watched the card-playing, 
 chewing the cud of his observations and making 
 wise plans. 
 
 Ten minutes later some one put his head in the 
 doorway and announced ice on the port bow. He 
 went out to the deck again and made his way for- 
 ward to the place where their chairs were placed. 
 The mother was there, but the vision's chair was 
 empty. He joined the throng of passengers gazing 
 seaward, and suddenly discovered her just in front 
 of him against the rail. He edged his way 
 through the crowd till he stood beside her. He 
 
THE BOOMERANG 25 
 
 had determined to pick an acquaintance and he ex- 
 pected difficulty at first. The afternoon sun broke 
 through the clouds and slanted down upon the ice- 
 berg. A gale was blowing, and the seas broke 
 high on the desolate thing. Suddenly she turned 
 and said casually: 
 
 "It 's wonderful, is n't it?" 
 
 He was inclined to gasp, but did n't. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "Amazing." He felt the 
 adjective applied to the girl as much as to the 
 iceberg. 
 
 "We saw four on the last trip over," she went 
 on. "The captain said we just missed running 
 into one in the fog off the Banks." 
 
 "You came over in the Aquitanic?" he asked 
 
 "Yes, just for the voyage." She glanced over 
 her shoulder at her mother in her chair against the 
 deck-house as if to intimate that it was on her ac- 
 count. Then she resumed her gaze seaward. 
 
 "Lonely-looking thing," he ventured presently. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "It makes me think of McDowell's 'Wandering 
 Iceberg.' Do you know it?" 
 
 "No," he said. He was uncertain whether Mc- 
 Dowell was a poet, painter, musician, or iceman, 
 but he took a chance and won. "Do you play it?" 
 
 "I play at it," she answered. 
 
26 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I should like to hear it," he said. 
 
 She made no answer, but turned again toward her 
 mother and waved her hand. Presently she said: 
 
 "I hope the captain keeps well to the south. I 
 should hate to run into one." 
 
 "They say drowning is not unpleasant," Jerry 
 remarked, "but I 'm against it in cold water." 
 
 She laughed, shuddered delightfully, took a last 
 look at the drifting ice, and moved back toward 
 her chair. Her novel slipped from under her arm 
 and fell to the deck. 
 
 Jerry picked it up, returned it to her, and re- 
 ceived thanks. 
 
 "May I help you with your rug?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, no," she said ; "I can manage my own rug. 
 I 'm not as helpless as that." 
 
 But he tucked her in while the mother, a sweet- 
 faced, weary-looking woman, smiled vaguely on 
 him. Then he bowed and took his leave. As he 
 reentered the smoking-room he said to himself: 
 
 "By this time to-morrow afternoon, Sumner, you 
 shall have heard 'The Wandering Iceberg' ren- 
 dered on the piano in the ladies' sitting-room. 
 You are not doing badly." His manner was jubi- 
 lant. His impression of the lady was that she was 
 "some girl." 
 
 The next morning he breakfasted late. The 
 
THE BOOMERANG 27 
 
 stout lady had finished and gone, but in the open 
 vista there was no profile. After he had fortified 
 the inner man he went on deck to scout. The two 
 chairs on the port side, amidships, were vacant, nor 
 were any books, pillows, or rugs in evidence. He 
 made a tour of the three passenger decks, found 
 nothing, and retired to the smoking-room, where the 
 auction-players were waiting for him. As he ar- 
 ranged his cards he tried to account for the empty 
 chairs. As tactics the move was new to him. 
 
 At lunch he had a mere glimpse of her. She 
 was not in her place when the stout lady's bendings 
 first opened the view, but appeared suddenly while 
 the Chillicothean was holding forth on diabetic 
 breads. Then the stout lady remained static for a 
 long period, and when the view next opened, the 
 profile was gone. Another inspection of the decks 
 showed the chairs still unoccupied. Clearly some- 
 thing was wrong. He detected one of the lovers 
 loafing mournfully in the vicinity. This made him 
 feel safe, and he wenc on to the smoking-room for 
 his coffee. All afternoon he played cards, trusting 
 to the movements of the love-birds for infor- 
 mation. One or the other strolled out of the place 
 from time to time, but returned shortly, and so he 
 knew that the chairs were still empty. Dinner 
 came, and she made no appearance. Thus the day 
 
28 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 passed, and he had not heard "The Wandering Ice- 
 berg." He was baffled. He engaged one of the 
 love-birds in conversation, but was able to gather 
 no information. The bird was as ignorant of the 
 cause of the disappearance as himself and much 
 more upset about it. 
 
 The next day and the next and two more passed, 
 and the absence of the vision continued and re- 
 mained unexplained. The love-birds, realizing 
 that life is short, buried their sorrows and sought 
 consolation, one in the deserted wife of a bridge- 
 player, the other in drink. Jerry played cards 
 with varying fortune, and the voyage drew to an 
 end. 
 
 The evening of the seventh day as he was think- 
 ing of bed, the ship's doctor strolled into the smok- 
 ing-room, dropped into the seat beside him and 
 proposed a nightcap. Now the doctor was a 
 County Meath man, and discovering that Jerry had 
 hunted a winter from Navan, his heart warmed, 
 and it was past midnight before they killed their 
 last fox and faced the idea of turning in. 
 
 "By the way," said Jerry, as he rose to say 
 good night an idea had come to him, "do you 
 happen to know what has become of that pleasant- 
 looking, dark-haired girl? Did she fall over- 
 board?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 29 
 
 "Are you inquirin' as a friend of the family?" 
 asked the doctor. 
 
 "It might be that way," said Jerry. 
 
 "Then I '11 be tellin' ye in confidence that her 
 mother is an ill woman." 
 
 "What 's the matter with her?" 
 
 "Begad, I wish I knew that. She says it's a 
 heart attack, but to save me soul I can't find any- 
 thing wrong there. She just lies and moans and 
 frightens the pretty daughter nigh to death. If 
 there was a medical man among the passengers, 
 I 'd have him in." 
 
 Jerry grinned. The temptation was strong. 
 
 The Irishman looked at him searchingly. 
 
 " You 're not of the profession yourself?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "I 've got a sheepskin." 
 
 "Then, by the powers, ye must see the woman in 
 the morning. I '11 no longer bear the responsi- 
 bility alone. At least ye can cheer up the girl." 
 
 "I 'm afraid it would n't do," Jerry answered. 
 "I don't practise. Besides, the voyage is nearly 
 
 over." 
 
 "Of course it will do," the Irishman insisted. 
 "I '11 come for ye at half -past ten in the morning. 
 And now good night." 
 
 And so it came about that at twenty minutes of 
 
30 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 eleven the next morning, despite more remon- 
 strances and certain qualms of conscience, he fol- 
 lowed Dr. Rafferty into the sick woman's state- 
 room. The vision, who was sitting on the tran- 
 som reading, looked up and eyed him with an air of 
 mixed amazement and what he took to be suspicion. 
 He felt himself blushing guiltily. He regretted 
 that he had undertaken the adventure. He knew 
 that she knew why he had come and believed that 
 he was no doctor at all, which was almost the 
 truth. 
 
 "Good morning, Mrs. Tyler," called Rafferty, 
 heartily. "I 'm bringing Dr. Sumner to see ye, a 
 famous heart specialist who happened to be crossin' 
 with us, and I '11 have the pleasure of introducin' 
 him to you, my dear young lady, though I pray 
 the saints ye '11 have no need of his professional 
 
 services." 
 
 Hie vision, now identified as Miss Grace Tyler, 
 bowed stiffly. Jerry avoided her eye and ad- 
 dressed himself to the invalid. It was necessary 
 that he should be as professional as possible. 
 
 "As I understand," he said, "you came for the 
 rest and quiet of the voyage?" 
 
 She nodded weakly. 
 
 "And you were taken ill almost at once?" 
 
 "While coming down the bay," she answered 
 
THE BOOMERANG 31 
 
 wearily. "Then I got better and was very well 
 till this new attack. I 've always enjoyed the sea," 
 she added. "My husband had a schooner yacht, 
 and we went everywhere." 
 
 "Excuse me," said Jerry, "but did you ever have 
 an attack like this on land?" A new interest in 
 the case seemed to have come to him. 
 
 The sick woman nodded. 
 
 "Was n't it the time we went out to Santa Bar- 
 bara?" she answered, appealing to her daughter. 
 
 The girl nodded. 
 
 "And you had another one coming back?" sug- 
 gested Jerry. 
 
 "Yes," said the daughter. "The doctor said it 
 was the altitude." Her manner seemed to be thaw- 
 ing a little. 
 
 "Well, there 's no altitude here," observed Dr. 
 Rafferty. "Nothing but longitude and latitude." 
 
 Jerry took the sick woman's pulse, looked at her 
 tongue, and announced that he would take the lib- 
 erty of making some suggestion to Dr. Rafferty. 
 He might look in again later in the day. 
 
 "Do you think you can cure her?" the girl de- 
 manded. 
 
 "I think it 's a possibility," Jerry answered mod- 
 estly. 
 
 She looked at him gratefully and, as if wishing 
 
32 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 to make amends for her suspicions, held out her 
 hand and smiled. 
 
 Jerry took it. It was a pleasant hand to take. 
 
 "Don't be frightened," he said cheerily. "It 's 
 nothing serious." 
 
 When they were on deck the Irishman accosted 
 him. 
 
 "What do you make of it?" 
 
 "My belief," said Jerry, "is that the good lady is 
 neither more nor less than thoroughly seasick. I 
 had an aunt that could n't get aboard a street-car 
 without being taken the same way. It 's the ma- 
 chinery. You see, a sailing vessel does n't bother 
 her. Give her the usual dope and a little cham- 
 pagne and cracked ice, and she '11 be right as rain. 
 That 's the way it was with my aunt." 
 
 "Begad, I think you 're right. You 're a genius 
 at diagnosis!" cried the doctor. 
 
 "But don't tell her it is n't heart disease," added 
 Jerry. "And you might call the champagne a 
 French cardiac." 
 
 Raff erty looked at him and laughed. 
 
 "Spoken like a king's physician," he said. 
 "You '11 go far, me boy, in our chosen profession." 
 
 Jerry laughed, but made no explanations. In 
 the afternoon he called again at the Tylers' cabin. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 33 
 
 The girl met him at the door with the news that 
 the invalid was sleeping. 
 
 "She 's decidedly better," she whispered. "She 
 took some bouillon for lunch." 
 
 "Don't you think you 'd better get up on deck 
 and have some air?" he suggested. 
 
 The girl shook her head. 
 
 "Not now, but perhaps later. But don't expect 
 me." She gave him a friendly smile, and Jerry's 
 interest deepened. 
 
 Of course Jerry did expect her and waited 
 about till the first bugle blew for dinner, but it 
 was in vain. If she came on deck, he missed her. 
 He regretted it. She was a very attractive girl, 
 but he had reached the philosophical age. He had 
 found that life gives less trouble if man bows 
 gracefully to fate, specially where the ladies are 
 concerned. 
 
 That night they picked up Fire Island light and 
 were due to dock before noon the next day. Jerry 
 was on deck early. The hot calm of a July morn- 
 ing was on the bay. As they passed quarantine, 
 he stood by the rail, gazing at the colossal Liberty 
 and the weird sky-line of Manhattan growing out 
 of the sunlit haze. He had heard men speak with 
 regret and melancholy of the ending of a voyage 
 
34 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 and had never understood- Now he began to 
 feel it himself. He wondered if the prospect of 
 parting with the vision had anything to do with it. 
 He could not truthfully say it had. For a week, 
 detached from past and future, he had put away 
 his troubles and lived agreeably in the day. But 
 now immediately ahead of him his problem was 
 waiting. There was the rub. The pleasant life of 
 the past eight years lay three thousand miles be- 
 hind. As he gazed broodingly at his native land 
 he heard the rustle of a woman's dress and, turning, 
 confronted Miss Tyler. Her exuberant color had 
 faded somewhat, but she was still radiant with that 
 unquenchable youth which was so great a part of 
 her beauty. Jerry raised his hat. 
 
 "I hope your mother is much better," he said. 
 
 "Very, very much," she answered. "She is so 
 grateful to you. We both feel that if we had only 
 had you at once you would have cured her at the 
 beginning. 
 
 "I did n't do anything," he answered. "Raf- 
 ferty is the man to thank. But I wish Mrs. Tyler 
 had escaped all she has been through for more than 
 one reason. The calamity of the voyage was your 
 disappearance from society." 
 
 She flushed a little. 
 
 "Yes, I believe that," she said ironically. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 35 
 
 "You don't have to take my word for it," he 
 answered. "The ring game has n't been out of the 
 box since you left us." 
 
 She laughed, and her color deepened. . 
 
 "It 's the cruel fact," he went on. "And, be- 
 sides, I never heard 'The Wandering Iceberg' and 
 now I never shall." 
 
 "You must have a sister or somebody that 
 plays," she suggested. 
 
 "No somebody. You can guess my chance with 
 a sister." 
 
 "Well, you '11 hear it somehow." 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 "No; that is one of the irrevocable might-have- 
 beens." 
 
 "Perhaps it's just as well," she observed. 
 "I 'm afraid you 're not a very serious person. It 
 would be wasted on you." 
 
 He protested at that. 
 
 "You '11 never know how wrong you are. 
 That 's my greatest regret. Perhaps in the next 
 world we '11 meet, and you '11 understand me and 
 play for me." 
 
 "On a golden harp," she suggested. 
 
 "If you can play iceberg pieces on a harp." 
 
 She regarded him hesitatingly. 
 
 "I want to ask you something," she said. "I 
 
36 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 know it 's silly to ask personal questions when I 
 shall probably never see you again." 
 
 "Ask away." 
 
 "Mother was wondering whether by any chance 
 you were Dr. Gerald Sumner of Elmford, Con- 
 necticut?" 
 
 He masked his surprise. 
 
 "Perhaps I ought to get advice of counsel be- 
 fore answering," he replied. "Would it be used 
 against me if I was?" 
 
 "I can make no promises as to that." 
 
 "Then I '11 put it another way. What do you 
 know about Dr. Gerald Sumner of Elmford, Con- 
 necticut?" 
 
 "What every one in Elmford knows, that he 's 
 been studying abroad for eight years and ought to 
 know everything about medicine." 
 
 Jerry chuckled, but as the significance of her re- 
 mark got to him, it seemed less humorous. 
 
 "So you live in Elmford?" he said. 
 
 "I did n't say that," she answered quickly. "I 
 said I knew what Elmford people knew about this 
 particular Doctor Sumner." She paused and 
 looked at him. They were at a deadlock, neither 
 able to score. 
 
 "I '11 tell you what I '11 do," said Jerry, propos- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 37 
 
 ing a compromise. "I '11 tell you the truth if 
 you '11 tell me the truth." 
 
 "All right," she answered. 
 
 With an air of mystery he said: 
 
 "You guessed it. I am Dr. Gerald Sumner of 
 Elmford." 
 
 Imitating his manner, she answered: 
 
 "And I live in Elmford." She met his look and 
 giggled. There was another impasse. 
 
 "I don't think I can believe you," he said doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 "I know I can't believe you," she retorted. 
 
 "But I can refer you to the passenger list." 
 
 "You 're down as 6 G. Sumner, Paris.' ' 
 
 "And you 're down as 'Mrs. Tyler and daughter, 
 U. S. A.' " 
 
 "Well, you '11 see if you come to Elmford," she 
 said gaily. 
 
 "Then I shall certainly see because I 'm cer- 
 tainly going to Elmford," he answered. 
 
 He gathered from the change in her expression 
 that some one was approaching behind him. He 
 glanced over his shoulder and saw one of the love- 
 birds. 
 
 "Well," he said, "I suppose I must get some 
 breakfast. But remember, if I don't turn up in 
 
38 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Elmford, I '11 have your harp all tuned and wait- 
 ing in heaven." 
 
 "And pick me out a becoming halo," she added. 
 "That is, if you don't appear in Elmford." 
 
 He laughed, raised his hat, and left her. 
 
 "She 's stalling, of course, about Elmford," he 
 thought. "But she must know people there. I '11 
 find out about her." 
 
 Emile accosted him at the foot of the companion- 
 way with the information that everything was 
 packed. 
 
 "I suppose you 'd like to see something of New 
 York," Jerry suggested. 
 
 "I have a cousin who is chef," replied Emile, 
 hopefully. "He lives in the Sixty-fourth Street, 
 East. He has promised to show me the town, as 
 he calls it." 
 
 "I '11 tell you what I '11 do," said Jerry. "I 'm 
 going to cut for home, but I '11 leave you to get the 
 luggage through the customs, and you can spend 
 the night in town and come on to Elmford to-mor- 
 row. Only don't let your cousin show you too 
 much." Emile laughed wisely. 
 
 They went down to the state-room for final direc- 
 tions; thence Jerry proceeded to breakfast. Miss 
 Tyler made no further appearance. The ship 
 docked about ten. Jerry was one of the first to get 
 
THE BOOMERANG 39 
 
 ashore. As he reached terra firma he looked back 
 and caught a glimpse of the girl standing against 
 the rail with a mass of purple orchids at her belt. 
 A masculine figure was beside her, but his back was 
 turned, and Jerry could only be sure that it was not 
 one of the love-birds. He hazarded the guess that 
 if he was the source of the orchids he was not a 
 brother c Then he pushed on to have his hand- 
 bags examined at the gate, and secured a taxi. At 
 the Grand Central he found he had ten minutes be- 
 fore his train started and he decided to telegraph 
 his father. 
 
 "It will be surprise enough as it is," he thought. 
 "There 's no use overdoing it. It might bring on 
 apoplexy." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 /COLONEL ADDISON SUMNER had a theory 
 V>4 that divided mankind into what he called the 
 centrifugal and centripetal types. The tempera- 
 ment of the former expanded outward, craved so- 
 ciety, travel, and superficial experience of wide 
 areas. His favorite example of budding centrifu- 
 galism was the child that is odious at home, but an 
 angel of grace with strangers. The centripetal 
 character, on the other hand, turned inward, made 
 but few friends, was content in the environment in 
 which it developed, and desired what are some- 
 times called "the real things" of life. 
 
 He himself was typically centripetal. His am- 
 bitions and activities centered in the little New 
 England city in which he had been born, his hopes 
 and affections in the idea of home. Thus consti- 
 tuted, fate in some ways had been singularly gen- 
 erous to him. He lived in the house in which he 
 had been born a house which his great grand- 
 father had built, a house mellow with Sumner tra- 
 dition. The old furniture had been bought new 
 when Adam, Chippendale, and Sheraton were at 
 
 40 
 
THE BOOMERANG 41 
 
 work. A Sumner had planted the great elms and 
 laid out the lawns. In the garden was box that 
 dated from before the Revolution. 
 
 Fate, however, had left Addison Sumner a wid- 
 ower when his second child, the daughter, was 
 born, and this blow at his home had been a stag- 
 gering one. A man of less character and direc- 
 tion might have succumbed under it and drifted 
 into dilettante habits and European wanderings. 
 But with Addison Sumner it stimulated new efforts 
 to save what was precious to him. His hope for 
 the future lay now in his children. The happiness 
 of his old age depended on the relation that he 
 should establish with them. Whether they would 
 go forth and leave him old and alone in his empty 
 house, or arrange their lives about his, he believed 
 depended entirely upon himself. 
 
 To make the house gay and attractive, to make 
 himself their friend and companion, was relatively 
 easy for him. He enjoyed it and did it well. But 
 in considering their future, specially that of his 
 boy, he realized that he must take chances. If 
 Gerald was to be to him what he hoped, it must be 
 because the boy wanted it. No sense of compul- 
 sion must enter in. If the boy was to make his 
 life in the little New England city he must do it 
 with full knowledge of the outer world. He must 
 
42 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 do it because his sense of values made it the de- 
 sirable thing to do. So with a courage no one 
 suspected because no one knew what the sacrifice 
 cost, he sent Gerald away, first to school and then 
 to college. 
 
 The boy's talents at foot-ball and rowing were 
 immediately apparent. Beyond that he seemed 
 possessed of a quick, inquiring mind, with a bent 
 for science rather than for academic studies. By 
 the time he was graduated from Harvard he had de- 
 cided upon medicine for a profession, but whether 
 from boyish impulse or from some deep-seated 
 trend of mind, the father could not judge. Per- 
 sonally he would have preferred his son to mani- 
 fest a polite interest in politics and a disposition 
 to manage the family estate, but he faced the situa- 
 tion without flinching. There was only one thing 
 to do. He must give the boy every advantage of 
 education and training. Accordingly after Ger- 
 ald took his degree at the medical school he sent 
 him abroad to complete his studies. Somewhat 
 to his alarm he began to realize that the completion 
 of Gerald's studies was like the completion of 
 Dido's weaving. Two years at Edinburgh was fol- 
 lowed by a request for a year in London. The 
 year in London led to two more in Germany, and 
 the year in Germany made Paris inevitable. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 43 
 
 But all this time his faith both in his policy and 
 in his son never wavered. He had sowed that 
 later he should reap abundantly. Gerald was 
 fitting himself to be a great man. His answers to 
 requests for more time were always in the same 
 key of trustful acquiescence. "I know you know 
 what you 're doing, my son," he would write. "If 
 you think you ought to go to Paris, go by all means. 
 When you get ready to come back we shall be glad, 
 but don't hurry. Your career must come first." 
 
 But at last the colonel began to fear lest Ger- 
 ald's mental equipment would become too impos- 
 ing for Elmford. He wrote, pointing out the mis- 
 take of becoming "too theoretical," and suggested 
 that Jerry make his professional start as a practi- 
 tioner not later than the autumn. Meanwhile he 
 had been preparing a surprise for Jerry which he 
 hoped would reconcile the cosmopolitan young doc- 
 tor to the little town. 
 
 The morning that Jerry landed the colonel spent 
 at his desk in the library writing checks for the 
 monthly bills. A pile of stamped envelops ad- 
 dressed in his old-fashioned, copper-plate hand 
 grew under his labors. Toward noon, as he was 
 finishing, an automobile horn squawked a rhyth- 
 mical series of toots evidently constituting a private 
 signal. The colonel smiled and glanced at the 
 
44 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 clock. A moment later a girl swept boisterously 
 into the room and embraced him. 
 
 Marion Sumner was twenty-four, but appeared 
 younger. Possibly the will not to grow up had 
 physiological consequences. At this period in her 
 life the most important thing was to get distance 
 with her wooden clubs and do the eighteen holes 
 under ninety-five. Modernity was exemplified in 
 Marion even as the passing order typified her 
 father. 
 
 "Anything in the morning mail?" she demanded. 
 
 The colonel shook his head. 
 
 "It looks to me as if our wandering boy had got 
 lost," she observed. "We '11 have to go after 
 him." 
 
 The colonel smiled. 
 
 "Would you mind?" 
 
 "Not if we could look for him at the Paris dress- 
 makers'. Really, Father," she added, "I 've got 
 to get some clothes or I '11 be arrested." 
 
 "Well," he said, "why don't you go to New York 
 and get them?" 
 
 "Too busy this week," was the answer. "I 'm 
 just getting back on my iron shots. I came in in 
 forty-nine this morning." 
 
 "Whom were you playing with?" 
 
 "Just Budd," she answered. Her tone implied 
 
THE BOOMERANG 45 
 
 that playing golf with Budd Woodbridge was like 
 playing with one's maiden aunt. 
 
 The colonel looked at her with an expression in- 
 tended to be roguish. 
 
 "You seem to be playing somewhat regularly 
 with Budd." 
 
 She looked at him with utter hopelessness as at 
 one beyond the possibility of understanding, and 
 said: 
 
 "I suppose you know the laundry boiler is leak- 
 ing." 
 
 "I telephoned the plumber this morning," he re- 
 plied. 
 
 At this juncture the door-bell rang. They 
 looked at each other in silence, listening to the foot- 
 fall of the parlor maid on her way to the door. For 
 the last three weeks they had been listening every 
 time the muffled ringing of the bell sounded in the 
 pantry, the expectation of a cable in the minds of 
 each. 
 
 "It 's some things I ordered from Skinner's," 
 Marion observed. 
 
 "I suppose so," said the colonel. He rose, gath- 
 ered up the pile of envelops, and slipped a rubber 
 band about them. Then the parlor maid entered, 
 bearing the telegram that announced Jerry's arrival 
 on the one-five train. 
 
46 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 At two o'clock a measure of calm had been re- 
 stored. They were still sitting around the lunch 
 table, the colonel radiant, but with eyes still misty, 
 Marion calm and sisterly in the manner of the mod- 
 ern sister, devouring the tale of the young Odys- 
 seus. The reason why they had not heard from 
 him for so long was that his father's letter had 
 lain a week at Lucerne before he got it. The very 
 next morning he had started. He had not written 
 because he knew he would beat the mails. He was 
 some swift traveler. It certainly was great to be 
 home! Bully! Nothing like it! Never wanted 
 to set foot out of the house again. There was no 
 one like his father. Marion had become a peach. 
 No place like Elmford. If any part of his joy 
 was acted, it defied detection. He ate an entire 
 omelet and several chops. As for the green corn 
 from the garden, the first of the season, it was 
 worth a voyage around the world. He must con- 
 gratulate old Watkins, the vegetable gardener. 
 He must embrace Mrs. Tuttle, queen of omelet- 
 makers. He had already wrung the hand of James 
 Bannock, the butler, till that venerable support of 
 the Sumner household winced. He must forth- 
 with inspect the entire place and see everybody. 
 Suddenly he started as a man who realizes that he 
 
THE BOOMERANG 47 
 
 had almost forgotten what he came to inquire 
 about. 
 
 "Great Scott!" he cried, "I've been talking so 
 hard I 'm nutty. What on earth is that new wing 
 that has grown out of the side of the house? No 
 one has written about it. What does it mean?" 
 
 Marion and the colonel glanced at each other 
 significantly. 
 
 "By Jupiter!" Jerry shouted, "Marion 9 s going 
 to be married! It 's a dove-cote for the bride and 
 groom!" 
 
 Marion giggled. 
 
 "You 're an idiot," she said. 
 
 "Yes, it is," he insisted. "But why did n't you 
 write me about it? Who is he, anyway?" 
 
 "Perhaps you can guess when you see," said the 
 colonel. 
 
 "We ought to blindfold him," said Marion. "It 
 must burst on him." 
 
 "I '11 keep my eyes shut," he promised. 
 
 Arm in arm they led him through the new door 
 under the stairs, down the passage, then through 
 another door, and the word was given to look. 
 He opened his eyes and stared about him dum- 
 foundedly. What he saw was a great room lined 
 with cupboards and book-shelves. A flat-topped 
 
48 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 desk stood in the center, with a revolving-chair 
 drawn up before it, a patient's chair on the other 
 side. On the walls hung an engraving of the first 
 operation with ether and pictures of a similar char- 
 acter. The room was unquestionably a doctor's 
 office. 
 
 "The best private medical library in New Eng- 
 land," announced Marion with a wave at the book- 
 cases. "Everything from appendicitis to zymotics. 
 All the latest wrinkles in stethoscopes and tonsil- 
 cutters." She flung open cupboard after cupboard, 
 disclosing shelves filled with instruments and ap- 
 paratus. "Model operating-room to the left," she 
 went on, seizing him by the arm and dragging him 
 with her. "X-ray machine and developing-room 
 adjoining; waiting-room to accommodate twenty 
 patients across the hall. All magazines and comic 
 papers on the table one year paid in advance; at- 
 tendant's office through that door." 
 
 He followed dumbly while she played guide till 
 they came upon a glittering sign with the legend : 
 
 "Gerald Sumner, M. D. 
 
 rue u f 10 to 12 A - M - 
 
 Office Hours 4 
 
 [ 2 to 4 P. M. 
 "That will go up to-morrow," she announced. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 49 
 
 "And all of it to the dust cloths in the housemaid's 
 closet father did himself." 
 
 Jerry turned and faced his parent. 
 
 "But, Father!" he gasped. 
 
 "Not a word!" said the colonel, beaming. 
 "You 've deserved it, and I know you '11 use it as it 
 deserves to be used." He paused as Bannock ap- 
 peared in the doorway. 
 
 "Will you see the plumbers, sir?" said the but- 
 ler. 
 
 "In a moment," the colonel answered. "And if 
 there is anything you find wrong or lacking, Ger- 
 ald," he went on, "I want you to tell me truth- 
 fully, and we '11 make it right. A good man must 
 have good tools." He then turned and followed 
 Bannock to the back of the house. 
 
 "Isn't it wonderful?" said Marion. "He has 
 been at it for six months. I think he expects 
 people to be coming up from New York to consult 
 you." 
 
 "It 's rather taken the wind out of me," said 
 Jerry. 
 
 "I '11 leave you to get your breath," she an- 
 swered. "I 've got some telephoning to do. Do 
 you want to play golf this afternoon?" 
 
 "I can't; my things won't get here until to-mor- 
 row," he said in a hollow voice. 
 
50 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I see," she said. She waved at him and was 
 gone. 
 
 Jerry stood for a time gazing dumbly about 
 him. Nothing that he had imagined or feared 
 compared with the facts. He had read a poem 
 once which spoke of "fetters forged by love." He 
 understood now what they were. He saw himself 
 a prisoner till old age came upon him, silvering his 
 hair. He saw death at last signing his release. 
 Finally, his best despair being inadequate to the 
 situation, he burst out Jaughing. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 WHEN Jerry recovered somewhat from the 
 shock of the offices he decided that he must 
 immediately have a plain talk with his father. As 
 Marchbanks had advised, he must blurt out the 
 whole horrible truth. It would be a fearful blow 
 to the colonel. The long-tried patience of that 
 good man would give way at last. There would be 
 an explosion. It might end in his being disowned, 
 an outcast. But it had to be. 
 
 Marion had gone to bed. The more reliable 
 of the library clocks indicated a quarter past ten. 
 Jerry was sitting in an easy-chair on one side of 
 the table. The colonel in an easy-chair on the 
 other side was going through the New York even- 
 ing papers with his glasses half-way down his nose. 
 The psychological moment had come. With a 
 queer, weak feeling in his knees, Jerry flung his 
 cigar at the fireplace and cleared his throat. 
 
 "Father," he said, "there is something I want to 
 talk to you about." 
 
 The colonel laid the paper on his knees. 
 
 51 
 
52 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "The time and money you 've spent on these 
 offices make me very uncomfortable. I don't de- 
 serve it. The fact is I have n't worked as I should 
 have done. To put it plainly, sir, I 've loafed. 
 Instead of getting down to cases and boning, I 've 
 been getting smatterings of half a dozen different 
 specialties. The result is I don't know anything 
 thoroughly. I 'm about as incompetent to under- 
 take a general practitioner's job as a piano-tuner." 
 He stopped. The horrible truth was out. He 
 looked straight ahead of him with burning face, 
 waiting for the crash. 
 
 "Well," said the colonel after a silence that 
 seemed eternal, "I think your frankness and 
 modesty are very creditable, Jerry. In your place 
 I think I should have loafed a good deal myself. 
 I 've had a hope that you would work into some sort 
 of specialist's practice in Elmford, but, of course, 
 we 've got to wait and see what happens. You '11 
 probably have time to brush up on fundamentals 
 before you 're troubled with patients. That 's one 
 of the reasons why I got that library. I think it 
 would be a mistake to give up without first making 
 a try at it," he went on, "but if it does n't go, if the 
 patients don't come after a reasonable length of 
 time, I sha'n't want you to keep at it." He picked 
 up his newspaper and went on reading. This 
 
THE BOOMERANG 53 
 
 was the great crash. It was almost a disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 The next morning the brass sign went up, and 
 Jerry started boning fundamentals. Emile ar- 
 rived during the forenoon and was installed as of- 
 fice attendant with the theoretical duty of answer- 
 ing the office door-bell and ushering in patients be- 
 tween the hours of ten and twelve, and two and 
 four. 
 
 That afternoon an east wind set in with rain that 
 fell steadily for two days. The effect of the 
 weather was to deepen Jerry's sense of sin and 
 shortcoming and to quicken his ardor for medical 
 research. During this period his attitude toward 
 the question of patients varied from hour to hour. 
 At times, filled with the desire to make good, he 
 longed for pestilence and a stricken public throng- 
 ing the waiting-room. His fear was that no one 
 would ever come. At other times, overcome with 
 a sense of his unfitness, his fear was that they 
 would. A book agent rang the office bell during 
 one of these latter states of mind and threw him 
 into a panic. 
 
 However, on the third day the sun came out upon 
 a refreshed and glittering world, and the natural 
 man in Jerry began to recover his normal tone. 
 With the office windows open and the sun stream- 
 
54 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 ing in, the fundamentals of medicine seemed 
 less important and more oppressive than on the 
 preceding days. Osier's book on practice lay 
 open, but unread. Jerry's hand stretched out for 
 a match to light his cigarette when Marion came 
 in. 
 
 "Jerry," she said, "Preston De Witt has just 
 telephoned, asking us to make up a foursome this 
 afternoon. Will you play?" 
 
 "I don't mind," he assented, "if it 's after office 
 hours. What has Preston turned into? I have n't 
 seen him since he was a kid." 
 
 "I don't think I 'm crazy about him," observed 
 Marion, "but he 's very clever. Mr. Grant has 
 taken him into their law firm, which means a good 
 deal, and he certainly makes the big hit with the 
 ladies." 
 
 "The village cut-up, eh?" 
 
 "Something like that. He plays good golf." 
 
 "Well, then," said Jerry, "we '11 play together 
 and trim him. Who is the other girl?" 
 
 "Some one I want you to meet," she answered. 
 "Grace Tyler." 
 
 Of course the obvious thing was for Jerry to 
 exclaim and tell about the voyage. But Jerry was 
 not given to the obvious. Moreover, he had an 
 instinct for jokes. He scented one ahead. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 55 
 
 "Tyler, I don't remember any Elmford Tylers," 
 he said thoughtfully. 
 
 "They only came here about a year ago," Marion 
 answered. "They 're very nice people. Grace 
 has been a great succcess. She 's very pretty and 
 amusing; also she '11 have money." 
 
 "Why would n't she do for me?" 
 
 "I should think the question was whether you 'd 
 do for her," retorted Marion. "Anyway, Preston 
 is on the job." 
 
 "How little you know about these things!" said 
 Jerry. "A man who is willing to take the trouble 
 can marry any woman he likes. But don't think 
 I 'm going to take the trouble," he added. "Lib- 
 erty is the thing till a man is fifty. After that, 
 some nice, adaptable little wife and home and fire- 
 side." 
 
 "You 're disgusting," said Marion. 
 
 "But," he continued, "if this fellow De Witt is 
 unworthy of Miss Tyler, there is no reason why we 
 should n't help her to see her danger." 
 
 "I hope," said Marion, devoutly, "that when you 
 get it really bad, I '11 be there to enjoy it. I never 
 saw such conceit. I wish Grace would take the 
 trouble to show you a little attention." 
 
 "It would be very nice if she would," he said 
 teasingly. 
 
56 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Well, she won't," Marion answered. "She is 
 too much occupied to bother with you." 
 
 Jerry smiled innocently. 
 
 "Marion," he said, "I '11 bet you a box of golf 
 balls that I '11 make such a hit in five minutes that 
 she '11 propose playing with me instead of Pres- 
 ton." 
 
 "Are you dippy?" she exclaimed. 
 
 "Are you taking the bet?" 
 
 "Of course I am," she answered. She gave him 
 a look of sisterly contempt and started to go. 
 
 "One minute," he called. "You and Grace 
 have n't got anything planted on me?" 
 
 "I haven't seen her for a month," Marion an- 
 swered. "She took her mother abroad, and 
 they Ve been in New York since they landed. She 
 only got back to Elmford last night." 
 
 When she had gone, Jerry began to compose a 
 note on his best office stationery: 
 
 DEAR Miss TYLER: 
 
 I am informed that you were really telling the truth 
 about living in Elmford, also that I 'm to have the 
 pleasure of playing golf with you this afternoon. Both 
 were nice things to hear. Marion does n't know we were 
 shipmates, and has been telling me what a haughty, far- 
 away queen you are. Suppose we keep the fact that we 
 were shipmates to ourselves for a while. I 'd like to put 
 one over on little sister. If you would be willing to take 
 
THE BOOMERANG 57 
 
 me on as a partner this afternoon, it would be very nice. 
 I think we could trim them and add a little to the gaiety 
 of nations and the Sumner family. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 GERALD SUMNER. 
 
 When the noon whistles blew, Jerry slipped down 
 town to the leading florist and despatched his note 
 with two dozen American Beauties. 
 
 Till half past three that afternoon he toiled man- 
 fully with Osier. Then he closed the book with a 
 bang, went to the closet, and returned with a bag of 
 golf clubs. He dumped out a dozen golf balls and 
 began to put across the rug. As he got his eye and 
 hand together, his spirits rose. Despite his thirty- 
 two years, Jerry was very much a boy. Why 
 should he worry? He had told his father the 
 truth; he was doing the best he could. If no pa- 
 tients came, it was not his fault. And why should 
 they come? He had heard of young doctors wait- 
 ing years for a case, and there were enough estab- 
 lished physicians in Elmford to fight a plague. 
 He made three excellent puts in succession and 
 smiled. He was good at golf. There was no 
 denying it. That day he felt like playing. Very 
 likely he would get around under eighty. The 
 thought of Grace Tyler, with her wonderful color, 
 her delightful little nose, her charm, and youth. 
 
58 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 put him on his mettle. He putted on till ten min- 
 utes of four. Then he gathered up the balls and 
 was going to his room to change into flannels when 
 Emile appeared. 
 
 "Monsieur," the man said excitedly, "outside 
 in the waiting-room there is what you call one pa- 
 tient." 
 
 Jerry's jaw dropped. 
 
 "Gott in Himmel!" he muttered. What had 
 led this miserable, unsuspecting creature to invade 
 his office? 
 
 "Look here, Emile," he said desperately, "I have 
 got to go at four. Tell him there is a very good 
 doctor around the corner in Chestnut Street, Dr. 
 Kales." 
 
 "But it is a lady," said Emile. "She wants to 
 see you. She looks very ill." 
 
 "A lady?" he repeated. That was worse. He 
 had a mental picture of a bent and withered crone 
 tottering in to enumerate her symptoms. "An old 
 lady, I suppose?" he suggested. 
 
 "Not so old," said Emile, hopefully. 
 
 Jerry looked at the clock. 
 
 "Emile," he said, "show her in and then tele- 
 phone Miss Marion at the country club that I '11 be 
 a few minutes late." He hurried to the desk, 
 coughed formally, composed his features into his 
 
THE BOOMERANG 59 
 
 idea of a professional expression, and began to 
 write busily on the scribble pad. The door 
 opened. There was a rustle of a dress. He 
 looked up. A girl, slim and young, was standing 
 timidly before him. The details of her appear- 
 ance escaped him. All he saw was a pair of violet 
 eyes fixed on him with a look of wistful appeal. 
 
PART II 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 ONFRONTED with the undeniable fact of a 
 \J( flesh-and-blood patient, Jerry bowed cere- 
 moniously and in a voice like that of old Farwell, 
 Elmford's fashionable undertaker, begged her to 
 be seated. 
 
 The girl coughed nervously and sank into the 
 chair and faced the desk. She was perhaps twenty, 
 dressed with an expensive and somewhat severe 
 simplicity in a style hardly suggestive of Elmford. 
 For the rest she was blonde, with a mass of fair 
 hair that seemed to be struggling to escape from 
 under her hat; but the spell exerted by her mild, 
 appealing eyes dominated the impression that she 
 made upon Jerry. He noted the little cough as a 
 possible symptom and, opening a drawer, took out 
 an index card and dipped his pen in the ink. 
 
 "Your name, please?" he asked, with a business- 
 like bruskness not unmixed with weariness, as if 
 the routine repetition of the question had worn 
 upon him. 
 
 "Virginia Xelva," was the answer. She noted 
 
 his look of perplexity, and spelled the name, a trace 
 
 63 
 
64 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 of some foreign accent showing in her intonation. 
 He entered the name and went on to the next head- 
 ing. 
 
 "Address?" 
 
 "I have n't any," she said with a little embarrass- 
 ment. "Just now I 'm at a boarding-house. I 
 don't know the number; it 's down " She looked 
 about her as if expecting to find it in a corner of 
 the room. "It 's three streets in that direction, then 
 to the right." 
 
 "Willow Street?" he suggested. 
 
 "That 's it," she said and smiled gratefully. 
 
 He wrote, "Willow Street, number unknown." 
 
 "Married?" was the next inquiry. 
 
 "No; not married." 
 
 "Children of course not," he went on. "Na- 
 tionality?" 
 
 She hesitated a moment, then answered: 
 
 "American." 
 
 He glanced up at her with an involuntary ques- 
 tioning in his look, but she seemed unaware of it, 
 and he continued. 
 
 "Now let 's see. Parents living?" 
 
 "No," she said softly. 
 
 "Cause of father's death, cause of mother's 
 death. Can you tell me?" He asked this in a 
 softer, more paternal tone than he had used before. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 65 
 
 "My mother died of a fever," she answered. 
 "My father was killed in an accident." 
 
 "I see," he said gently and went on writing. 
 Her age she gave as twenty-one. Her color he 
 entered as white. "Only one thing more. Occu- 
 pation?" 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "As yet I have none." 
 
 He drew a dash with his pen. 
 
 "And now," he said with a renewal of the pro- 
 fessional manner, "suppose you tell me what seems 
 to he the trouble." 
 
 "The trouble?" Perplexed, she looked at him. 
 
 "Why, yes, your symptoms. Why do you need 
 a doctor?" 
 
 Suddenly her eyes flashed comprehendingly, and 
 she smiled. 
 
 "I 'm afraid there is a misunderstanding," she 
 said. "I am not a patient." 
 
 "Not a patient?" he repeated. If she was not a 
 patient, who, in heaven, was she and what? If 
 she was not a patient, by what right had she put 
 him through the ordeal that he had been undergo- 
 ing? He hung between righteous indignation and 
 a desire to laugh. 
 
 "Why, no; I am very well," she said apologeti- 
 cally. "I came here from the agency." 
 
66 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 He looked mystified. 
 
 "Mrs. Thompson said you had just opened an 
 office and might want an office nurse." 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Thompson's employment agency!" 
 
 "Yes ; I suppose you don't need one. I 'm sorry 
 to have troubled you." She stopped with a quaver 
 in her voice and made as if to rise. 
 
 "Wait a minute," he said impulsively. "Are 
 you really looking for a position for yourself?" 
 What was in his mind was: "Are you really in 
 need of a job? Can it be that a girl dressed as you 
 are is hard up and has to work?" 
 
 She must have divined his thought, for she 
 colored faintly and answered: 
 
 "I should be very glad to get something to do." 
 
 "But the only thing I could offer you isn't a 
 trained nurse's work," he went on. 
 
 "I 'm not yet a trained nurse," she answered. 
 "I thought if I could get a position answering the 
 bell and the telephone I could study and learn." 
 
 "But why do you want to be a nurse?" 
 
 "Why?" she repeated. "Why, because I love it. 
 Next to being a doctor, it seems to me the finest 
 thing one can do." Her eyes lighted with an en- 
 thusiasm that repressed his inclination to laugh. 
 
 "But what makes you think it 's a fine thing to 
 be a doctor?" he demanded. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 67 
 
 "What other profession gives one such a chance 
 to help people?" she answered. "But you 're 
 probably making fun of me," she added. "Good 
 doctors must know how wonderful their work is." 
 
 It was on his tongue to say, "You see, I 'm not a 
 good doctor," but something held it back. 
 
 "The trouble with a position in my office," he 
 went on, "is that you might n't get a chance to learn 
 much about nursing. What you ought to do is to 
 go to New York and take the regular course at one 
 of the hospitals." 
 
 "I would," she answered, "only I have to sup- 
 port myself, and so I have to take some kind of 
 position like this." The wistful, haunting eyes met 
 his. 
 
 "Well," he said, "if you would care to come and 
 help us out till something better turned up, I should 
 be glad to have you." 
 
 She looked at him with a gratitude that left her 
 speechless. 
 
 "The obligation is all on my side," he said 
 quickly. He had a horrible feeling that she was 
 going to weep. 
 
 "You are so good!" she murmured. Then she 
 added with embarrassment: "I haven't refer- 
 ences. I don't know any one here. I did n't 
 expect to do this when I came to Elmford." 
 
68 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "That 's all right," he said cheerily. "I know 
 as much about you as you do about me. Now I 
 suppose we ought to be businesslike and talk about 
 terms. What 's your idea of salary?" 
 
 "I don't suppose I 'm worth anything just now," 
 she said hopelessly. "You '11 have to teach me 
 everything." 
 
 "There is an advantage in not having to unlearn 
 things," he suggested. "That ought to be worth 
 a good deal." 
 
 "Please let me leave the business part of it to 
 you. Anything you say will be satisfactory, more 
 than satisfactory." 
 
 "Well, then we '11 call it settled. When would 
 you like to begin?" 
 
 "Why, any time it 's convenient." 
 
 "Good! Suppose you start in to-morrow morn- 
 ing." He touched the bell, and Emile appeared. 
 "Emile," he said, "Miss Xelva is going to relieve 
 you of your office responsibilities." 
 
 She started up protestingly, 
 
 "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "I could n't take the 
 place away from any one." 
 
 The Frenchman grinned. 
 
 "You needn't worry about him," said Jerry. 
 "He 's not leaving us and he 's greatly relieved to 
 be out of the office. Miss Xelva will take charge 
 
THE BOOMERANG 69 
 
 of the office, beginning to-morrow," he went on. 
 "Show her where to put her things. Fix that desk 
 up for her in the waiting-room office and explain as 
 well as you are able your extensive duties." 
 
 Emile grinned again. 
 
 "If mademoiselle is ready, I will show her now." 
 
 She turned her childlike, questioning eyes upon 
 him as if to reassure herself that it was really as 
 Jerry had said. 
 
 "You are very good," she murmured gratefully. 
 "I am quite ready." 
 
 "Then I '11 leave you in his hands. I have an 
 engagement at four," said Jerry and retreated into 
 the house. As he changed into his flannels he re- 
 flected on what he had done. He had hired a 
 young woman whom he did not need, about whom 
 he knew nothing, and who, according to her own 
 statements, knew nothing of her job. It was not 
 a bright thing to do. 
 
 "But you can't let a girl like that knock around 
 the streets looking for a way to make her bread 
 and butter," he defended himself. Just what he 
 meant by "a girl like that" he did not take the 
 trouble to discover. It might have been that her 
 appearance indicated that she was not used to being 
 thrown upon her own resources. It might have 
 been something more psychological, something that 
 
70 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 ' had to do with the impression made by her unde- 
 niably extraordinary eyes. At a quarter past four 
 he jumped into the waiting motor-car and speeded 
 off for his golf and the meeting with the vision. 
 
 Among other things that add to the interest of 
 life by turning out contrary to design and expecta- 
 tion are practical jokes. In the theory of chances 
 there was little likelihood that Jerry's rather boyish 
 conspiracy to conceal from Marion his voyage with 
 Grace Tyler would work out. But as a matter of 
 fact it did. The suggestion embodied in Jerry's 
 note appealed to Grace. Any suggestion appealed 
 to Grace that tended to mortify the proprietary in- 
 stincts of man. Preston De Witt was too intelli- 
 gent a young man to allow his proprietary instincts 
 to become manifest, but Grace knew that they were 
 there, and she knew that it was good sense to run 
 the steam roller over them when she got the chance. 
 Moreover, it was the kind of thing that interested 
 her and which she did well. Therefore the joke 
 was on. She wore one of Jerry's roses. She 
 made herself obviously delightful to him and in- 
 sisted that it was unthinkable that a brother and 
 sister should play together. As a consequence, 
 with Jerry as a partner she defeated Preston and 
 Marion four up and three to play. There had been 
 few rounds of golf that Jerry had enjoyed more. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 71 
 
 As they were having tea on the club veranda, 
 the question came up of a return match. Marion 
 wanted revenge. 
 
 "How about to-morrow afternoon?" she sug- 
 gested. 
 
 Preston shook his head regretfully. He was 
 fearfully busy. He did n't know when he could 
 get off again. The fact was he had not enjoyed the 
 afternoon. 
 
 "Why not get Budd?" said Grace. 
 
 "I hear he 's sick," said Preston. "He has n't 
 been at the office for a couple of days." 
 
 "Sick?" said Marion. "What 's the matter with 
 him?" 
 
 "Don't ask me," said Grace, carelessly. "I 
 saw him for a few minutes last night. He seemed 
 all right. But if he 's sick, he ought to see Dr. 
 Sumner." 
 
 "That 's the way to talk," said Marion. "Lib- 
 eral commissions on all new business." 
 
 "Mother will get rich, then," said Grace, laugh- 
 ing. "She thinks he 's the greatest living doctor." 
 
 "Are you talking about Budd Woodbridge?" 
 asked Jerry. 
 
 Marion nodded. 
 
 "Great Scott!" said Jerry, "you don't mean to 
 say he's grownup!" 
 
72 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "He 's twenty-four." 
 
 "Gosh!" said Jerry. "The last time I saw him 
 he was in knee pants. What sort of critter has he 
 turned into? He was a nice kid." 
 
 There was silence for a moment, then Grace 
 said: 
 
 "I think he 's quite a dear. Don't you, Ma- 
 rion?" 
 
 "Why, yes, of course," said Marion, calmly. 
 "The only thing I have against him is his dancing. 
 You see, Jerry, we all look on him as a sort of 
 cross between a brother and a maiden aunt. He 's 
 grown fearfully solemn." 
 
 "He did n't used to be," Jerry observed. 
 "These girls don't seem to be very enthusiastic, De 
 Witt. What sort of chap is he?" 
 
 Preston tossed away his cigarette with a man-of 
 the-world gesture. 
 
 "Why, a very good chap, very good little chap," 
 he said patronizingly. "Plays a nice game of 
 golf." 
 
 "We may be able to play to-morrow," said 
 Jerry. "You telephone Budd, Marion, and if we 
 can't get him, scare up some one else." 
 
 As Marion and Jerry drove away from the club, 
 Marion confessed her defeat. 
 
 "I ordered a box of balls put in your locker," 
 
THE BOOMERANG 73 
 
 she said. "I hand it to you as lady charmer." 
 
 Jerry roared with delight. 
 
 "My dear," he said, "I can't take the balls. 
 You were up against a brace game. I came back 
 on the same ship with the lady. We had it all 
 fixed." 
 
 Open-mouthed, Marion gazed at him, then a 
 woman's first thought came to her. 
 
 "Do you mean you are dashing in seriously?" 
 
 "Do you think I 'd have a chance?" he answered, 
 laughing. 
 
 "I don't know what to think, except that you 're 
 certainly a fox." 
 
 "Well, I '11 tell you again, as I told you the other 
 day, that I have no idea of marrying anybody; but 
 I also announce that I don't think De Witt will do 
 for Grace, not by a long shot. There 's a lot of 
 good in that girl, and if I 've got Preston's number 
 correctly, he 's a counterfeit." 
 
 "Between you and me I think so, too," said Ma- 
 rion, "but all the same I '11 bet you she marries 
 him. He's a good deal cleverer than you think 
 he is." 
 
 "I '11 bet she does n't," he answered. "I can't 
 see Preston in any light. He 's the last man that 
 could worry me if he was bucking my game with 
 a girl." 
 
74 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 The car stopped in front of the house. As they 
 got out Jerry said: 
 
 "By the way, I forgot to tell you I engaged a new 
 office attendant this afternoon. You see, Emile 
 does n't like that kind of work, and he '11 be a great 
 deal more useful in the house." 
 
 "But there 's nothing for him to do except valet 
 you," said Marion. 
 
 "Oh, yes, there is," Jerry answered. "We ought 
 to have a second man in the dining-room." 
 
 "But how did you happen to engage a new at- 
 tendant? Where did you find him?" 
 
 "It 's a woman," said Jerry. "A nurse. Every 
 doctor ought to have a woman nurse in the office." 
 
 Marion shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "I suppose you know your own business," she 
 said. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 AS they were finishing dinner that evening, 
 Bannock came in with a note and presented 
 it to Jerry. Jerry asked permission to read it. 
 Having read it, he put it into his pocket with an air 
 of mystery and drank his coffee. 
 
 "Well," said Marion, "are n't you going to tell 
 us what she says?" 
 
 "I 'm afraid not," Jerry answered. "It 's of a 
 private nature." 
 
 Marion regarded him balefully. 
 
 "Our boy has made a hit with the ladies," she 
 observed to her father. "He 's a little above him- 
 self." 
 
 The colonel laughed. Jerry regarded her with 
 an indulgent smile, and when they left the dining- 
 room took his hat and went out. He returned 
 about half past nine and without comment upon 
 his absence began to set the chess-board for a game 
 with his father. No further reference was made 
 to the note. 
 
 It was a quarter past ten the next morning when 
 
 Jerry entered his office. He had hardly seated 
 
 75 
 
76 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 himself when the new office attendant came in. 
 She was dressed even more simply than the day 
 before, but there was color in her cheeks, and her 
 eyes glowed with excitement. 
 
 "There is a patient to see you," she said. "He 
 did n't want to wait. In order to keep him occu- 
 pied, I took the liberty of filling out the index-card. 
 I hope I did right." 
 
 "You did, indeed," said Jerry. He seemed to 
 feel no surprise at the idea of the waiting patient. 
 "I hope Emile explained things and made you com- 
 fortable?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," she answered. "He was very good." 
 
 "And you think you 're going to like your 
 work?" 
 
 "I know I am," she answered. Their eyes met, 
 and her color heightened a little. Her enthusiasm 
 amused him, but he made no comment. 
 
 "Well," he said, "you 'd better show Mr. Wood- 
 bridge in." 
 
 As he said the name, she glanced at him. 
 
 "Then you 're expecting Mr. Woodbridge?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "But don't let him know he was expected," he 
 added. 
 
 "I understand," she said. She handed him the 
 index-card and went out. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 77 
 
 As he seated himself at the desk he glanced at 
 the card and smiled. 
 
 "That girl is certainly quick at getting an idea," 
 he thought. 
 
 A moment later Mr. Budd Woodbridge was 
 standing before him, nervously crumpling his hand- 
 kerchief in the palm of his hand. 
 
 Jerry looked up, registering, as they say, recog- 
 nition. 
 
 "Why, Budd Woodbridge!" he exclaimed. 
 "This is a pleasant surprise! It 's years and years 
 since I Ve seen you!" He rose, and held out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Yes, it 's a long time," said Budd. 
 
 "Is this a social occasion," asked Jerry, "or 
 something professional?" 
 
 "Professional, I guess," said Budd, gloomily. 
 He sat down on the edge of the chair. "There 's 
 nothing the matter with me, but mother made me 
 promise to come. You won't find anything. 
 They 've all had a try at me." 
 
 "Well, it won't do any harm to try again, will 
 it?" 
 
 "No," said Budd, doubtfully. "If it amuses 
 you, go ahead." 
 
 "Have n't much confidence in the medical pro- 
 fession, eh?" 
 
78 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Budd grinned dolefully. 
 
 "I don't blame you," said Jerry. "Now, what 
 seems to be the matter?" 
 
 "There 's nothing the matter," said the patient, 
 hopelessly. 
 
 "Eat well? Sleep well?" 
 
 Budd eyed him suspiciously. 
 
 "Not very," he said. "Mother has n't been tell- 
 ing you a lot of worry stuff?" he added. 
 
 "Certainly not," said Jerry with emphasis. 
 "What put that into your head?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," the boy answered. "I 've 
 lost a little weight and I 've been kind of nervous, 
 and mother thinks I 'm sick. It makes me tired." 
 
 "Perhaps you are, perhaps you aren't," said 
 Jerry, sagely. "That 's what we 're going to find 
 out. Unless you object, we '11 go over you." 
 
 "Go ahead," said Budd, resignedly. 
 
 Jerry produced a thermometer from the drawer, 
 washed it ceremoniously, and placed it under the 
 patient's tongue. 
 
 "You see, the modern theory of medicine, which 
 is pretty well borne out by facts," he observed, "is 
 that you and I are sort of continents inhabited by 
 billions of assorted germs. A few of them we 
 know, most of them we don't, though we 're learn- 
 ing new ones every day. When some of the bad 
 
THE BOOMERANG 79 
 
 ones start something, it is n't always easy to say 
 just what is doing, but a good many of them signal 
 their activities with more or less rise of tempera- 
 ture. Hence the object which is now in your 
 mouth." Though he talked carelessly, he was 
 watching the boy with keen eyes. 
 
 "But I tell you I 'm all right," mumbled Budd. 
 
 Jerry nodded, looked at his watch, and presently 
 extracted the instrument. The mercury stood at 
 normal. 
 
 "That is interesting," said Jerry. 
 
 Budd glanced at him nervously. 
 
 "Anything doing?" 
 
 Jerry made no reply, but went to an instrument 
 case, and returned with a sounding-hammer. 
 
 "Coat off and waistcoat, please," he commanded. 
 
 Budd removed his garments, and Jerry began 
 to rap upon his chest, listening closely to the dull, 
 thud-like sounds that resulted. He finished this 
 operation and regarded his patient sternly. 
 
 "Cough much?" he inquired. 
 
 "Only when I have a cold. I have n't had one 
 since spring." 
 
 "I thought not. Now we '11 go a step further." 
 He took the hammer back to the case, and returned 
 with a stethoscope. He put his patient in the op- 
 erating-chair and went to work. He finished, 
 
80 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 made notations upon the card, and took the blood 
 pressure. 
 
 "You say your weight is off?" he demanded sud- 
 denly. 
 
 Budd nodded. 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 "About ten pounds." 
 "Since when?" 
 
 "The last month or so, since I haven't been 
 sleeping very well." 
 
 "Never been very fat, eh?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Let me see your tongue." 
 
 A red tongue was exhibited. 
 
 "Um," said Jerry, professionally. "Ever take 
 out any life insurance?" 
 
 A faint flush came into the boy's pale face. He 
 nodded. 
 
 "You passed all right?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "When were you examined?" 
 
 "About three months ago." 
 
 "Um," said Jerry again. He rose, paced the 
 length of the room and back, and then, telling the 
 patient that he would be back in a few moments, 
 disappeared into the operating-room. 
 
 Now, Jerry's reason for disappearing into the 
 
THE BOOMERANG 81 
 
 operating-room was that he wanted to think. Sim- 
 ulation of thought in the presence of the patient 
 got him no nearer finding out what was the matter 
 with Budd Woodbridge. Thermometer, stetho- 
 scope, sounding-hammer, and tongue all indicated 
 that nothing was the matter. The verdict of four 
 other doctors who had used these and other means 
 of diagnosis was to the same effect. Yet Jerry be- 
 lieved that the diagnosing instruments and the 
 other doctors were wrong. It was merely an intui- 
 tion, a "hunch"; yet there were certain facts to 
 back it. In the first place, Budd had lost ten 
 pounds in the past three months. In the second, 
 Mrs. Woodbridge, who had sent for him the even- 
 ing before on the advice of Mrs. Tyler, was thor- 
 oughly alarmed. She said that in the past three 
 months Budd had changed from a cheerful, nor- 
 mal, fun-loving boy to something utterly different. 
 He slept little, picked at his food, shunned com- 
 pany, and wore his nerves on the surface. She 
 was a sensible, intelligent woman, and her conclu- 
 sions could not be dismissed as the fancies of an 
 excited mother. Admitting the change in his condi- 
 tion, something must have caused it. The question 
 was to find out that something. Jerry's first 
 thought was that the boy had been gambling in the 
 stock-market and had perhaps put up securities 
 
82 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 that he had no right to take. But it appeared that 
 this had been the theory of Dr. Kale, the family 
 physician, and investigation proved it baseless. 
 Mrs. Woodbridge was more than well off, and Budd 
 had the income of a generous trust fund on his own 
 account. Nor could a clue be found either in bad 
 habits or an entangling alliance. Budd was a 
 model young man. 
 
 As he stood in the operating-room gazing blankly 
 at the wall Jerry forgot that he was a practising 
 physician, which had always seemed to him a role 
 involving humbug. He was merely himself, Jerry 
 Sumner, very much interested in working out a per- 
 plexing human problem. He continued to gaze at 
 the wall, but the wall was in no wise helpful. Sud- 
 denly he squared his shoulders, crossed to the door 
 that led into the attendant's room, and passed 
 through. The new attendant looked up from the 
 nurse's manual that she was poring over and rose 
 respectfully. 
 
 "Miss Xelva," he said, "if you were a doctor, 
 what would you say was the matter with that young 
 man?" He nodded toward the private office. 
 
 Miss Xelva's mild, wondering eyes fixed on him 
 as if to make sure that she was not being made 
 game of. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 83 
 
 "But I 'm not a doctor," she answered. "My 
 opinion would be worth nothing." 
 
 "That 's not the question," said Jerry. "If you 
 have an opinion, I 'd like to hear it." 
 
 "Well, it seems very clear to me," she answered, 
 "that the young man is suffering from some worry, 
 very likely an unhappy affaire de cceur." 
 
 Jerry regarded her with amazement. 
 
 "You mean the boy 's in love?" he demanded. 
 
 "That is what I should say. You can see he is 
 unhappy." 
 
 "But you don't really think being in love can 
 make a healthy man lose ten pounds beside his 
 sleep and appetite?" 
 
 "It might," she answered. "It would depend 
 on his attitude of mind, I should think." 
 
 He looked at her keenly and laughed. 
 
 "That's beyond me," he said. "It's not my 
 idea of love." 
 
 "Of course, I am very likely wrong," she an- 
 swered demurely. "It was only my opinion. 
 You asked for it." 
 
 "Well, of course, I 'm very much obliged to you 
 for it." He turned on his heel and went back to 
 his patient. There were only two courses open: 
 either to confess that he did n't know what the mat- 
 
84 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 ter was, or to stall along on the chance of thinking 
 it out. He decided on the latter. To gain time he 
 said, "Budd, I want to take your pulse before I go 
 any further." 
 
 Without speaking, Budd extended his hand. 
 Jerry took it and opened his watch. The pulse 
 appeared to be a perfectly good pulse. Jerry 
 counted its beats through a quarter of a minute, 
 then went on to the half. Ordinarily he would 
 have stopped here. He was satisfied with its be- 
 ing normal, but there was nothing else to do so he 
 kept on. Just as he passed the three-quarter mark, 
 the door opened softly, and Miss Xelva appeared. 
 
 "Miss Grace Tyler would like to speak with you 
 on the telephone," she said. 
 
 Jerry nodded, but made no move. At the men- 
 tion of Miss Tyler's name Budd's pulse had shot 
 up. There was no doubt about it. In the suc- 
 ceeding five seconds the beats almost doubled. 
 Then they began uncertainly to fall off. 
 
 "Tell Miss Grace Tyler," Jerry said, "that I '11 
 call up in five minutes." 
 
 Up shot Budd's pulse again. Jerry watched him 
 out of the corner of his eye. The boy's mouth was 
 set; drops of moisture were on his forehead though 
 the day was cool. Jerry did some quick thinking. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 85 
 
 "Oh, Miss Xelva," he called, "has Mr. Preston 
 De Witt rung me up this morning?" 
 
 Up shot the pulse again. 
 
 "No," said Miss Xelva, returning. 
 
 "That 's all," said Jerry. At the end of the next 
 quarter-minute he released Budd's hand. If he 
 wanted time to think before, he wanted it even more 
 now. It was hard to believe, but Miss Xelva was 
 undoubtedly right. Budd was in love with Grace 
 Tyler, and the name of Preston De Witt affected 
 him as the red rag is supposed to affect the bull; 
 But how to treat such a situation medically was a 
 question. Moreover, he was uncertain whether he 
 wanted to treat it. He knew he was not in love 
 with Grace Tyler himself, but he was not sure that 
 he did n't want to be, or that he might n't end up by 
 being. She was an uncommonly attractive girl. 
 As he put his watch back into his pocket he thought 
 of a plan to postpone action. 
 
 "Budd," he said, "I 'm all through with you to- 
 day except for one thing. I want to take a blood 
 test. Come into the operating-room." 
 
 Five minutes later Budd departed with an ap- 
 pointment for the next morning when he was to be 
 informed of the result. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THERE was to be a dance that night at the Lud- 
 lows', and Gertrude Ludlow had sent word to 
 Marion to bring Jerry, dead or alive. Jerry, how- 
 ever, had stood out against it. He was not a danc- 
 ing man. After Budd had left the office, he called 
 up Grace Tyler, and the first thing she asked him 
 was whether or not he was coming to the dance. 
 
 "I guess it 's nothing doing," he answered. "I 
 can't manage these new steps. I 'd feel out of it." 
 
 "But I '11 teach you," she suggested. "You '11 
 learn in five minutes." 
 
 "Yes, I know about that," he retorted. "I r d 
 have a great chance. You 'd be so busy you 'd for- 
 get you ever knew me. We '11 talk it over this 
 afternoon when we play that return match. By the 
 way, why not get Woodbridge to play with Marion? 
 I don't believe he 's too sick for a little golf." 
 
 And then a blow fell. Grace could n't play that 
 afternoon. She had to take her mother motoring. 
 That was why she had telephoned. 
 
 After Jerry had rung off he decided that he had 
 made a mistake in turning down the dance. As 
 
 86 
 
THE BOOMERANG 87 
 
 soon as Budd had gone he had planned to get him 
 for golf and watch him with Grace. He felt that 
 seeing them together would help to clarify the sit- 
 uation. If he could believe that Budd had a 
 chance to beat out De Witt, he would declare him- 
 self out of the running and help the boy play his 
 hand. If not, he would wash his hands of Budd 
 and give Preston a rub on his own account. With 
 the golf match off, there was no chance of making 
 the observations he wanted before Budd came back 
 to him as a patient. At lunch he announced to 
 Marion that he had changed his mind about the 
 dance. He would go. 
 
 "I suppose Grace has been using the telephone," 
 said Marion with a sisterly smile. 
 
 "Right as usual," said Jerry. 
 
 At half past eleven that evening Jerry had been 
 introduced to eleven girls, had danced three waltzes 
 in the English manner without reversing, and for 
 ninety minutes had been watching the door through 
 which the guests entered Mrs. Ludlow's ball-room. 
 No Grace Tyler had appeared. 
 
 For an equal length of time Mr. Budd Wood- 
 bridge had been going through much the same pro- 
 gram. Toward the end of the period Jerry had 
 taken to watching Budd instead of the door. It 
 amounted to the same thing and also gave him a 
 
88 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 chance to study his patient, as it were, under fire. 
 A little before midnight he saw Budd disappear 
 and, acting on impulse, decided to follow him. He 
 entered the dressing-room as Budd was leaving 
 with his coat and hat, and reached the street as 
 he passed under a street lamp half a block away. 
 To go directly home, Budd should have turned to 
 the right at the corner. But Budd turned to the 
 left. Jerry also turned to the left, wondering 
 what was in the boy's mind. He did not have long 
 to wait before finding out. At Putnam Street 
 Budd turned again and presently stopped before a 
 house that was still lighted. In front of the house, 
 which Jerry recognized as Mrs. Tyler's, stood a 
 motor-car. When Budd stopped, Jerry had 
 stopped also. When Budd went on, he, too, went 
 on and, coming to the motor-car, recognized it as 
 a runabout belonging to Preston De Witt. What 
 had happened was obvious. Grace had told Budd 
 she was coming to the dance and had chucked him 
 for Preston. 
 
 Whatever doubts Jerry may have had before of 
 the accuracy of the diagnosis based upon the pulse 
 episode of the morning, they were now settled. 
 The boy was in love. Miss Xelva had been right. 
 Just how much encouragement Budd had received, 
 Jerry, of course, could not say, but he surmised that 
 
THE BOOMERANG 89 
 
 there must have been considerable, and that being 
 the case, there was no doubt that he had just been 
 handed a pretty rough deal. His own hour and a 
 half made him appreciate the roughness. His 
 sympathy for the boy increased as he thought 
 about it, and before he got home he decided to take 
 the case. He had some theories about the manage- 
 ment of ladies of Grace's type. Moreover, there 
 was too much good in her to let her throw herself 
 away on a selfish, cold-blooded proposition like De 
 Witt. He believed he might be helpful to both 
 sides. He let himself in with his latch-key, and 
 went up to bed wondering how he would open up 
 the subject with Budd. It was the kind of thing 
 that a woman older than Budd might have done 
 gracefully enough, but he was not an older woman. 
 Just as he was dropping off to sleep, an idea came to 
 him, and he chuckled audibly. 
 
 Promptly at ten o'clock the next morning 
 Jerry was in the office. At five minutes past 
 ten Budd was ushered in. He looked pale and 
 haggard as if he had passed an extremely unhappy 
 night. 
 
 "I came in," he said, "because I promised that 
 I would, but if you don't mind, I think I '11 go. I 
 have got a little headache and I think the air will 
 do me good." 
 
90 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Not interested in the result of the blood test?" 
 said Jerry, casually. 
 
 Budd laughed mirthlessly. 
 
 "There 's nothing the matter with me. You as 
 much as said so yourself yesterday." 
 
 "Nothing the matter? You 've lost ten pounds; 
 you Ve got insomnia ; your appetite 's gone ; you 're 
 so nervous you can't sit still, and yet you say noth- 
 ing is the matter with you?" 
 
 "Well, there 's nothing a doctor can do." 
 
 Jerry looked at him keenly, and Budd dropped 
 his eyes. 
 
 "You 're sure of it, eh?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 "Would you like to make a bet on it?" 
 
 "You 'd lose your money, Doctor." 
 
 "I 'm willing." 
 
 "Then you really think there 's a medical treat- 
 ment that would help me?" 
 
 "I don't think. I know. 9 ' 
 
 "You 're wrong," said Budd. "I know what 's 
 the matter with me. It is n't anything that drugs 
 can help." 
 
 "I know what 's the matter with you, too," said 
 Jerry, "and it is something that medicine can help." 
 
 "You 're wasting your time," said Budd. "I 
 think I '11 be going." He started for the door. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 91 
 
 "Just as you say," said Jerry, "but remember, 
 you promised your mother to put yourself under 
 my care if I said I could help you. Yesterday I 
 was n't sure. To-day, since I 've made the blood 
 test, it 's different. I can help you. You 're not 
 going to back out?" 
 
 Budd looked at him suspiciously. 
 
 "What sort of a treatment will it mean?" he de- 
 manded. "How long will it take?" 
 
 "That depends on several things," Jerry an- 
 swered, "but chiefly on how conscientiously you 
 carry out my instructions." 
 
 Budd sat down, with his hat on his lap. 
 
 "Now, my son," continued Jerry, "in the first 
 place I 've got to ask you certain personal ques- 
 tions. You know a doctor has to do that kind of 
 thing." 
 
 Budd nodded. 
 
 "Before I begin I want you to promise me 
 that you '11 answer me truthfully and not get 
 mad." 
 
 "That 's all right." 
 
 "That means you will?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 Gerald pushed the box of cigarettes toward him 
 and helped himself. 
 
 "Now the first question," he began, "is a simple 
 
92 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 one. I want to know how long you have been in 
 love with Grace Tyler." 
 
 The boy stiffened in his chair and gazed at Jerry, 
 his face crimson. 
 
 "Who told you that?" he stammered. 
 
 "No one has told me anything, my dear boy," 
 said Jerry, calmly, "except yourself." 
 
 "But I 've never told any one." 
 
 "You seem to forget that I 've been examining 
 you inside and out, and that I 've taken a culture of 
 your blood. After all, modern medicine is able to 
 do something, you know." 
 
 Budd looked at him with something like awe, 
 and Jerry had to cough to preserve his composure. 
 
 "Now be good enough to answer my second ques- 
 tion. How long has this thing been going on?" 
 
 Budd flushed again. 
 
 "I should say ever since I met her." 
 
 "First sight?" 
 
 Budd nodded. 
 
 "Well, how long ago did you meet her?" 
 
 "Something over a year ago; the twenty -fourth 
 of last August, to be exact." 
 
 Jerry made a note on the card. 
 
 "Now," he said, "there 's another question which 
 I want you to answer with equal directness. Does 
 Grace Tyler love you?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 93 
 
 "Is that necessary?" Budd stammered. 
 
 "I understand. But I 've got to know. You 
 are here as a patient, not as a gentleman." 
 
 "Well," said Budd, with an effort, "I think she 
 did." 
 
 "And now she does n't?" 
 
 "It seems that way. I think I bore her," he 
 added miserably. 
 
 "And how long have you seemed to bore her?" 
 demanded Jerry, relentlessly. 
 
 The boy made no reply, but turned his head, and 
 Jerry saw that his eyes were brimming with tears. 
 He rose and walked round the desk and laid a 
 hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 "I know how it is," he said imaginatively. 
 "It 's hell! I 've been through it myself often, but, 
 old boy, you must n't let it get the best of you." 
 
 Budd sprang to his feet. 
 
 "Doctor, it has got the best of me!" 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Jerry, sharply. "This is no 
 way to go on!" 
 
 "Do you think I don't know that?" cried Budd. 
 "I know well enough that I ought to be a man 
 about it, that if she does n't care for me any longer, 
 I ought to keep away from her, but, Doctor, I just 
 cant. Can't you understand it?" 
 
 "Of course I can understand it," said Jerry, 
 
94 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 falsely. "But understanding it won't help you 
 any more than giving in to it against your better 
 judgment. We 've got to get down to facts in this 
 world." 
 
 Budd nodded miserably. 
 
 "But tell me," Jerry continued, "when did you 
 find out that she had stopped caring for you?" 
 
 "I don't know exactly, but I 've felt it coming on 
 for quite a while, ever since " 
 
 "Well," said Jerry, "ever since what?" 
 
 "Since there 's been another man." 
 
 "So there 's another man, eh? Who?" 
 
 "Preston De Witt." 
 
 "Tell me about it," said Jerry. 
 
 "Well, ever since he began coming around, I 've 
 felt a change. I did n't think much of it at first, 
 but then they were together more and more, and 
 after a while she seemed to prefer him. I made 
 up my mind over and over again that the only de- 
 cent thing for me to do was to get out of her way. 
 But I could n't help hanging around just the same. 
 Why, I keep telling myself I won't go near her 
 when I am on my way to her house. And all the 
 time I know perfectly well what an idiot I 'm mak- 
 ing of myself. And when I 'm with her, my at- 
 tempts to conceal this damned jealousy and appear 
 
THE BOOMERANG 95 
 
 light-hearted and jolly well, you can imagine 
 how successful they are!" He paused, and his 
 manner changed. A quiet intensity came into his 
 eyes as he continued. "And now little by little in 
 spite of myself I 've begun to hate him! No mat- 
 ter how I fight against it, I can't keep him out of 
 my mind. At times I imagine I see him some- 
 where alone, standing and waiting, and I try to 
 hold back and keep from springing on him and 
 then, she 's there, coming down a path, and be- 
 fore I know it I have him by the throat, strangling 
 the life out of him, strangling him, do you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 "You 've got this pretty bad," said Jerry. 
 
 Budd sank back in his chair as if exhausted by 
 his vehemence and abashed that he should have 
 unbosomed himself. 
 
 "I have got it pretty bad," he answered, with a 
 sickly smile. "I told you I was a damned fool." 
 
 "You 're up against a tough game," said Jerry, 
 sympathetically, "awfully tough. However, if you 
 will fall in love, you 've got to be prepared for 
 trouble. But there 's no need to call yourself 
 names. Under the circumstances I think you 've 
 behaved remarkably well." 
 
 Budd snorted contemptuously. 
 
96 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I know how I Ve behaved like a sniveling 
 school-boy. Why, if I were any good, do you 
 think I 'd have told you all this?" 
 
 "You did n't tell me," Jerry answered. "You 
 only answered the question I put to you. I 'd 
 found out myself." 
 
 "Look here," Budd demanded, "you don't mean 
 to try and put it over that by looking at my tongue 
 or examining a drop of blood you could tell I was 
 in love with Grace Tyler? I 've been going around 
 making an exhibition of myself, letting every one 
 know. That 's what I 've been doing. What I 
 need is a nurse." 
 
 Jerry looked at him smilingly. An idea just 
 struck him. 
 
 "It 's quite likely that we will get you one," he 
 said. 
 
 "And a rattle and a baby-carriage and a bottle," 
 Budd continued bitterly. "I 'm not worth your 
 trouble, Doctor." 
 
 "Steady, boy," said Jerry, kindly. "There 's no 
 use running yourself down. No one suspects this 
 thing but myself, and no one knows about it unless 
 you or Grace Tyler have told him. You say you 
 have n't, and I 'm pretty sure she has n't. You 
 don't understand what the examination of a drop 
 
THE BOOMERANG 97 
 
 of blood can tell about a man. I 'm not going into 
 details that you would n't understand, but you have 
 my word for it that no one has told me a thing about 
 you and Grace except my instruments and your- 
 self." 
 
 "Well," said Budd, "there 's a certain amount of 
 cold comfort in that, but it does n't help very much. 
 I don't suppose there 's any use in my staying on 
 and talking you to death. Now that you really 
 know what my trouble is, of course that cure bet is 
 off." 
 
 "That cure bet is very much on," Jerry an- 
 swered. "I can cure you if you want to be cured 
 and will do as I say." 
 
 Budd smiled incredulously. 
 
 "I wish I could believe that," he said, "but I 
 don't." 
 
 "I repeat," said Jerry, "I can cure you if you are 
 willing to place yourself in my hands for just one 
 month." 
 
 "What would you want me to do?" 
 
 "Whatever I tell you." 
 
 Budd was silent, thinking. 
 
 "Would it mean that it was all over with " 
 He hesitated. 
 
 "It might," said Jerry. 
 
98 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 The boy looked at him piteously. 
 
 "It's pretty tough," he muttered. "Could I 
 have a little time to think it over?" 
 
 "You can have till to-morrow at half past two," 
 said Jerry. "At that time I shall have the serum 
 ready, and if you want to sign on, I '11 give you the 
 first treatment." 
 
 "The serum?" Budd repeated. 
 
 "That 's what I said," Jerry answered gravely. 
 "It 's a new thing that they 've worked out in Paris 
 for cases like yours." 
 
 "Well," said the boy, "I '11 come in to-morrow at 
 half past two and let you know what I 've decided." 
 
 "Good!" said Jerry. He gave Budd a hearty 
 shake of the hand, and the boy departed. A few 
 minutes later Jerry touched the bell, and Miss 
 Xelva came in. 
 
 "You still want to be a nurse?" he demanded. 
 
 She looked at him in mild wonder. 
 
 "Why, yes," she answered. 
 
 "Well," he said, "unless I miss my guess I '11 
 have a case for you to-morrow." 
 
 "But am I competent to go on a case?" she asked. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 "I guess you 're as competent a nurse as I am a 
 doctor. Would you have any objections to taking 
 care of Mr. Woodbridge?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 99 
 
 "Mr. Woodbridge," she repeated. "Is he ill 
 enough for a nurse?" 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "Then you found out what was the matter,'" she 
 asked timidly. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 She gazed at him admiringly. 
 
 "And you think you can cure him?" 
 
 "I 'm going to try, but it 's an awful disease." 
 
 "Is it right for me to ask what it is?" 
 
 "Perfectly. You ought to know. In plain Eng- 
 lish the disease is called jealousy." 
 
 "Jealousy?" she repeated. 
 
 "Plain, old-fashioned jealousy. You see, you 
 guessed it yesterday." 
 
 "But how can a nurse be of any use trying to 
 cure a young man of jealousy?" 
 
 Jerry gave her a quizzical look. 
 
 "May I ask a personal question? Have you 
 ever been in love?" 
 
 She gazed at him with her frank, innocent eyes 
 and shook her head. 
 
 "Then, of course, you don't know anything about 
 it," he said. "I '11 explain." 
 
 "But jealousy can't be treated by a doctor," she 
 insisted. 
 
 "By the family doctor, no. You are quite right. 
 
100 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 But we specialists have some new ideas on the sub- 
 ject. You see modern, up-to-date medicine treats 
 anything from measles to parricide with serums." 
 
 "But is there a serum for jealousy?" she asked 
 incredulously. 
 
 "There will be by two-thirty to-morrow," he an- 
 swered. "But don't think I 'm not taking this case 
 seriously," he added. "This boy is really in a 
 dangerous condition. He 's right on the brink of 
 a nervous collapse, and all because he 's got a girl 
 on the brain. Your job and mine is to get her off. 
 And the first thing to do is to give him something 
 else to worry about even if we have to give him a 
 new disease. And that 's where the nurse comes 
 in. Woodbridge must be made to believe that 
 we 're keeping a strict record of his condition. 
 And all the time the nurse must be doing her best 
 to amuse him and keep his mind constantly occu- 
 pied. And believe me, that 's just as worthy and 
 difficult a job as nursing a patient through ty- 
 phoid." 
 
 "You 're good to give me the chance," she said. 
 "I 'd love to try it." 
 
 "Well, we '11 try to work it out together. This 
 afternoon I '11 show you the things you '11 have to 
 
 use." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 BUDD'S state of mind as he walked home from 
 Jerry's office, to put it mildly, was confused. 
 When he had gone to see Jerry, torn and anguished 
 with the experience of the night before, he would 
 have submitted cheerfully to anything that prom- 
 ised to remove Grace from his memory, even 
 cerebral surgery. Now that Jerry assured him of 
 a cure, he could not bring himself really to want 
 it. He had the feeling that if he only gave her 
 enough devotion, she would care for him in the end. 
 Without her, life was utterly empty. Even since 
 De Witt had come on the scene they had had de- 
 lightful evenings together at which Budd would 
 be translated to the seventh heaven and go away on 
 fire with happiness. Then the next day something 
 would happen: he would do or say something which 
 Grace would resent and for a week he would nurse 
 a bleeding heart. As he reached the corner and 
 turned toward his mother's house, it flashed upon 
 him that in some way it was all his own fault. He 
 was too easily hurt; he demanded too much; he 
 lacked the requisite patience. A girl as beautiful 
 
 and perfect as Grace was a law unto herself. Who 
 
 101 
 
102 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 was he to complain or criticize? He resolved to 
 begin over again and be perfectly strong, perfectly 
 patient, perfectly cheerful and devoted no matter 
 what happened. He made a solemn vow to that 
 effect. 
 
 As he turned down Connecticut Street an auto- 
 mobile horn squawked vehemently, and looking up, 
 he saw Grace driving her mother's car and smiling 
 radiantly at him. She drew up at the curb and 
 waited for him. Budd's heart beat joyfully. 
 
 "Hello!" he called and dashed across the street. 
 
 "Want a lift?" 
 
 "I was just going home," he answered. 
 
 "Well, I wanted to see you about something," 
 she said. "You 've been very bad." She looked 
 at him with a sort of coy motherliness. "You 've 
 been sick and have n't let me know about it." 
 
 "It was nothing," he answered deprecatingly, 
 "just a little cold." 
 
 "But it kept you from the office." 
 
 "Who told you that?" he demanded. 
 
 "Why, I think it was Preston," she answered. 
 "We wanted you to make up a foursome." 
 
 At the name of Preston it was as if the sunlight 
 had suddenly gone out. Budd stiffened. He re- 
 membered his newly made resolutions, however, 
 and forced a sickly smile. 
 

THE BOOMERANG 103 
 
 "I was all right," he said. "It was just that 
 mother thought I ought to stay home." 
 
 "Well, I 'm glad of that," she said sympatheti- 
 cally. "I was getting worried. I had n't seen you 
 for days and I wanted to thank you for the bridge 
 scores. Where on earth did you get them? They 
 were just what I wanted." 
 
 The sun began to come out again. 
 
 "I sent to New York for them," he answered. 
 "I 'm awfully glad they were right." 
 
 "Tell me about the party," she said smilingly. 
 "I hear you left early." 
 
 The ice began to form again somewhere in 
 Budd's interior. 
 
 "Yes," he said shortly. 
 
 "Was n't it fun?" 
 
 "I don't know," he answered. "I thought you 
 were going to be there." 
 
 "I did expect to. Your flowers were too lovely, 
 Budd." 
 
 "But why did n't you come?" 
 
 "I don't know. Somehow I did n't feel quite up 
 to it. You know how one chucks at the last min- 
 
 ute." 
 
 "Yes, I can understand," he said bitterly. The 
 words had slipped out, and his resolutions were 
 forgotten. 
 
104 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" she demanded. 
 
 "I passed by your house on my way home," he 
 said significantly. 
 
 "But that was n't on your way home." 
 
 "I went around that way to ask if you were ill." 
 
 "Did you come to see me last night?" she de- 
 manded. 
 
 "I did n't stop because I saw you were engaged. 
 His runabout was outside." 
 
 "Well, what of that?" 
 
 "Nothing; only I knew then why you did n't come 
 to the dance." 
 
 "But I 'd given up the dance long before Preston 
 called. I had n't the slightest idea he was com- 
 ing." 
 
 "But he must have known you 'd given it up." 
 
 The lines of Grace's mouth tightened. 
 
 "Now you 're beginning again," she said 
 sharply, "and, as I Ve told you, I won't stand it." 
 
 The boy looked at her miserably. 
 
 "I did n't mean to say anything," he faltered. 
 
 "Well, you did," she answered hotly. "You 
 may not mean it, but you always do. And I tell 
 you once more, I won't have it. I Ve a perfect 
 right to do what I please and see whom I please. 
 You said you understood that." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 105 
 
 "I do understand it. But lately you seem to be 
 with Preston all the time." 
 
 "That's not true," Grace exploded, "and you 
 know it. And if it were, it 's entirely my own 
 affair. And I won't have you always reproaching 
 me and making scenes." 
 
 She pressed her foot on the starter; the car shot 
 forward, and Budd was left dumbly standing on 
 the sidewalk, with a lump in his throat and his 
 whole being numb with heartache. 
 
 The next day at half-past two he came into 
 Jerry's office looking like the ghost of misery. 
 
 "I 've decided," he said. "I '11 do as you say." 
 
 Jerry suppressed a smile. 
 
 "That 's the right spirit," he said cheerily. "In 
 a month you won't know yourself. You '11 be feel- 
 ing like a two-year old." 
 
 Budd looked at him dismally, but said nothing. 
 
 "Well," Jerry went on, "we 've got the serum 
 ready." His hand went out to a small bottle of 
 colorless fluid, that stood on the desk. "That 's 
 the stuff." 
 
 "But I can't see," said Budd, "how medicine can 
 cure jealousy." 
 
 "That 's natural," said Jerry, "and you can't see 
 why because you don't know what 's brought on the 
 
106 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 jealousy. Now you think it's Preston De Witt, 
 but it is n't. Preston De Witt never would bother 
 you if it were n't that your nervous system had been 
 attacked." 
 
 "By what?" 
 
 "Bugs," said Jerry, gravely. "Germs, mi- 
 crobes, millions of them. They get you down, and 
 that 's what made you nervous, and your neuras- 
 thenia, as we call it professionally, made you jeal- 
 ous. If you were in a normal condition, as I am, 
 for example, you would n't know what jealousy 
 was. You would never give Preston a second 
 thought. You 'd snap your fingers at him." 
 
 Wonder tinged with envy showed in Budd's gaze, 
 and it was hard for Jerry to keep a straight face. 
 
 "I wish I were like you," he said. 
 
 "You will be after we get through with you," 
 said Jerry. He touched the bell, and Miss Xelva 
 answered it. "We 're all ready," he said. 
 
 Miss Xelva disappeared, and Jerry took a medi- 
 cine-dropper, filled it from the vial of colorless 
 liquid, and dropped three drops in a glass of dis- 
 tilled water. 
 
 The boy watched him eagerly and suddenly 
 burst into hysterical laughter ending with a kind 
 of sob. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 107 
 
 "There go the bugs at work on your old nerves," 
 said Jerry. 
 
 "It 's the idea of my being full of germs," said 
 Budd, controlling himself. "It 's funny." 
 
 "Everybody 's full of 'em," continued Jerry, 
 putting the cork back into the vial. "Most of them, 
 you see, are harmless, but you 've got some bad 
 ones. But we '11 knock 'em out. Now, the treat- 
 ment may be a little hard for you, especially at 
 first. Do you think you can stand it?" 
 
 "I '11 stand anything if it cures me. The harder 
 the better." 
 
 "That 's the way to go at it," Jerry said encour- 
 agingly. "Do you drink?" 
 
 "Not much." 
 
 "Smoke?" 
 
 "Yes; quite a little." 
 
 "You must cut 'em both out. You must n't even 
 look at a high-ball. Why, one teaspoonful might 
 spoil the effect of all the microbes in that glass, 
 something like three hundred millions." 
 
 "You 're going to put microbes in me?" Budd 
 asked. 
 
 "Billions of them to fight your nerve bugs. 
 That 's the principle of modern medicine." 
 
 Budd gazed at him in awe. 
 
108 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "All right," he said meekly. 
 
 "Now, the next most important thing after cutting 
 out drink and tobacco is exercise. Exercise and 
 the course I 'm going to lay out for you gives our 
 beneficient organisms the proper chance to do their 
 work. You must be up every morning at six, rain 
 or shine, and take half an hour at a brisk dog-trot. 
 Then a cold shower and breakfast! In the fore- 
 noon two hours' work in the gymnasium and no 
 loafing about it. After lunch a long walk, six or 
 seven miles, and in the evening if you feel up to 
 it, a short go at the punching-bag, another bath, and 
 bed. In other words, all the exercise you can stand 
 and" he paused impressively "for one month 
 absolutely no social engagements. Do you know 
 what I mean by that?" 
 
 "Keep away from her?" 
 
 "Exactly, and from all your friends." 
 
 The door opened, and Miss Xelva came in with 
 a surgeon's tray on which were a lighted alcohol 
 lamp, a hypodermic syringe, a bottle of alcohol, 
 absorbent cotton, forceps, and other instruments. 
 
 "And now we '11 go ahead with the serum," 
 Jerry continued. "Take your coat off, roll up your 
 shirt-sleeve, and lie down in the operating-chair." 
 
 While Budd was obeying instructions, Miss 
 Xelva deftly disinfected the hypodermic needle in 
 
THE BOOMERANG , 109 
 
 the flame and filled the syringe from the solution in 
 the tumbler. Then with a piece of cotton soaked 
 in alcohol she rubbed the spot on Budd's arm 
 where the injection was to be made. As she fin- 
 ished she glanced up furtively, and Jerry nodded 
 approval. 
 
 "I 'm going to have Miss Xelva do this," Jerry 
 explained, "because she will give you your daily 
 treatments. All ready, Miss Xelva. It won't hurt 
 you," he added. "Just a quick jab, twitch it out, 
 and it 's all over." 
 
 The girl set her mouth, took the syringe in one 
 hand and Budd's arm in the other. 
 
 "I do hope it won't hurt," she said sympa- 
 thetically. 
 
 "I don't mind," said Budd. 
 
 "You won't hurt him if you jab it quickly," said 
 Jerry. 
 
 Budd closed his eyes as if he had been facing 
 a firing-squad; the girl, pale, but determined, sud- 
 denly pressed the needle home, and the deed was 
 done. 
 
 "Was it very bad?" she asked excitedly. 
 
 Budd opened his eyes. 
 
 "I did n't feel it." 
 
 "It 's nice of you to say so," she murmured. 
 
 "Gome along," said Jerry. "Press it down 
 
110 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 slowly give it time. That 's the way ! Splendid ! 
 Now out quickly! That 's very neatly done. Miss 
 Xelva." 
 
 She wiped the spot with the cotton and proceeded 
 to rub it with the palm of her hand. 
 
 "Feeling a little dizzy?" Jerry asked. 
 
 "No," said Budd, doubtfully. "I don't think 
 
 so." 
 
 "You will. Getting several million germs 
 pumped into you is quite a shock, but it will pass 
 off presently. I would n't try to stand up just yet. 
 You should always lie down for five minutes after 
 each treatment. Miss Xelva will help you into the 
 operating-room, and you lie down on the couch." 
 
 "But I feel all right," said Budd. 
 
 "Better submit to assistance," Jerry suggested. 
 "Think of those bugs and don't take any chances." 
 
 Five minutes later Jerry went into the operating- 
 room. 
 
 "Feeling all right?" he asked. "Dizziness 
 passed off?" 
 
 The boy sat up. 
 
 "I really don't think I felt any," he answered. 
 "If I did, I did n't know it." 
 
 "That 's splendid," said Jerry. "You 're going 
 to react favorably. I can see the treatment will 
 succeed. Now, you know yesterday we were 
 
THE BOOMERANG 111 
 
 speaking of a nurse for you. Well, I 've arranged 
 for one." 
 
 Budd's face fell. 
 
 "I have n't got to have a nurse, have I?" 
 
 "It 's absolutely essential," said Jerry, impres- 
 sively. "I would n't take the responsibility of the 
 case without one. But no one need know about it. 
 In fact it 's better that no one should suspect that 
 you are ill." 
 
 "I should prefer it that way," said Budd. 
 
 "Well, that's the way it will be," said Jerry. 
 "If you don't go to the office or see people, that 's 
 your own affair. In a few days no one will think 
 anything about it. Miss Xelva will go on the case. 
 She 's a very capable woman. I '11 arrange about 
 it with your mother. You won't need her during 
 the day, but it will be best to have her live at your 
 house and see that you get up in the morning and 
 go through your work. Also she '11 keep your 
 chart. During office hours she '11 be here as usual 
 and will give you your serum treatment." 
 
 "Just as you say, Doctor," said Budd. 
 
 "And now," said Jerry, "as a parting word re- 
 member the bugs that have been making all this 
 trouble, and help the good little microbes that are 
 working for you to win. In a month you '11 have 
 forgotten what it was to be jealous." 
 
112 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I don't suppose," said Budd, timidly, "that you 
 have ever been jealous yourself." 
 
 Jerry laughed. 
 
 "I 'm afraid that 's an experience I shall never 
 have, Budd. I just naturally happen to have good 
 nerves. But you will, too, and you '11 laugh to 
 think that a fellow like Preston De Witt could ever 
 have given you a bad night." 
 
 Budd gazed at him admiringly and departed. 
 
 When Jerry was alone he rang the bell for the 
 office attendant. 
 
 "You were bully," he said, "went through it with- 
 out a hitch." 
 
 "I can never thank you enough for taking so 
 much trouble to teach me," she answered. "It 
 must be wonderful to know as much as you do." 
 
 Jerry laughed. 
 
 "If we had a show-down," he said, "you 'd find 
 out that I know just as much about doctoring as you 
 do about nursing." 
 
 She looked at him a little shocked, as if he had 
 uttered a mild blasphemy. 
 
 "It 's the truth," he went on. "This is my first 
 case, just as it 's yours, and I 'm depending on you 
 to help me put it through. Together I think we can 
 do it, but during the next month most of the work 
 will fall on your shoulders. To-night you '11 go 
 
THE BOOMERANG 113 
 
 to the Woodbridges'. I '11 see Mrs. Woodbridge 
 this afternoon. She 's a very nice woman and will, 
 I know, make you comfortable." 
 
 A shadow crossed the girl's face. 
 
 "Then I 'm not to come here to-morrow?" 
 
 "Why, of course you 're to come," he answered. 
 "Did n't you understand that? Your duties won't 
 interfere with our office hours." 
 
 "I 'm glad of that," she said. She gave a sigh 
 of relief and dropped her eyes. 
 
 "Now I 've explained to you about keeping his 
 chart," he went on. "You really won't have to do 
 much except put the thermometer in his mouth and 
 write ninety-eight and two fifths. Is there anything 
 else you want to know?" 
 
 "There 's one thing," she said anxiously. "I 'm 
 awfully afraid I '11 make some mistake in giving 
 him his serum. Suppose I give him too much?" 
 
 "Don't let that worry you," said Jerry. "The 
 serum is distilled water with three drops of dis- 
 tilled water added to it." 
 
 She looked at him in amazement and then burst 
 out laughing. 
 
 "You see there are tricks in every trade but 
 ours," said Jerry. Mentally, he was making note 
 of the way she laughed. In a long experience he 
 had observed that few women are attractive 
 
114 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 when they laugh. This girl was one of the few. 
 
 "I feel very much relieved," she said. "I was 
 afraid I might kill him." 
 
 "No danger of that, you see, but in any case I 'd 
 take a chance on you. The way you take hold of 
 this thing is amazing. Have n't you ever done any- 
 thing of this kind before?" 
 
 "A very little," she answered, "and only as an 
 amateur, but it interests me." 
 
 She went back to her little room where her 
 desk was, and a moment later he heard her speak- 
 ing to Emile in French. He went to the door and 
 listened. French evidently was as much her na- 
 tive tongue as English. 
 
 "I wonder what brought that girl to Elmford," 
 he said to himself. "There 's something odd about 
 it. A girl with Paquin clothes and a Cartier watch 
 isn't usually found looking for a chance to take 
 care of a doctor's office in Elmford, Connecticut." 
 
PART III 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 HPHE establishing of Miss Virginia Xelva at the 
 J_ Woodbridges' in the capacity of trained nurse 
 was not so simple a matter as Jerry had anticipated. 
 As soon as Budd left the office, Jerry telephoned 
 Mrs. Woodbridge and arranged to see her privately 
 after lunch. He suggested that Budd be got out 
 of the house, and Mrs. Woodbridge said she would 
 invent a business errand. Shortly after two he re- 
 ceived word that the coast was clear, and he set out 
 for the Woodbridges'. His announcement that he 
 had made a satisfactory diagnosis of Budd's condi- 
 tion and could promise a probable cure was re- 
 ceived by Mrs. Woodbridge with almost tearful 
 gratitude. The nature of the diagnosis, however, 
 he kept to himself, explaining merely that he had 
 found a nervous condition which, he was confident, 
 would yield to treatment. Then he broached the 
 subject of the nurse, and to his surprise met with 
 immediate opposition. Mrs. Woodbridge wanted 
 to take care of Budd herself. 
 Jerry shook his head solemnly. 
 
 "I 'm sorry," he said, "but I can't take the re- 
 117 
 
118 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 sponsibility unless I have a nurse on the case." 
 
 "But if we have a trained nurse in the house," 
 she answered, "everybody in Elmford will know 
 that Budd is ill, and you know how that will annoy 
 him." 
 
 "It is n't necessary that anybody should know. 
 You can explain her as a secretary or companion." 
 
 "But is the nurse you are sending the kind of 
 person that I can take into the house in that way?" 
 she demanded. 
 
 "Of course I only know her as a nurse," Jerry 
 answered, "but she is a lady, quite young and, I 
 suppose, rather pretty. Naturally a doctor does n't 
 think of that sort of thing in regard to nurses." 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge still hesitated. 
 
 "If you 're afraid of her having designs on 
 Budd's young affections," he said, "I don't think 
 there 's any ground for it. In my opinion he 's 
 safe for the present." 
 
 She shot him a quick look. 
 
 "You think he 's interested in some one al- 
 ready?" 
 
 "You ought to know better than I do," Jerry an- 
 swered, not altogether ingenuously. 
 
 "I had an idea that he was," she answered, "but 
 since he 's been ill he 's been very strange. He 's 
 seen very little of her." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 119 
 
 "So much the better," said Jerry. "My advice 
 is that Budd shall see nothing of her, if there is a 
 her, or any of his old friends for a month at least. 
 In fact, that is part of the treatment that I have 
 prescribed. For this reason it is all the better that 
 there should be some young person in the house that 
 he can talk to. He must be kept as cheerful as 
 possible, and every effort made not only to 
 break with old associations, but to establish new 
 
 ones." 
 
 "I suppose you know best," said Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge, resignedly. "Does the nurse live in Elm- 
 ford?" 
 
 "No," he answered, "she 's a stranger." 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge revived a little. 
 
 "I 'm glad of that," she said. "There won't be 
 any gossip. What is her name?" 
 
 "Xelva. Miss Virginia Xelva." 
 
 "Hardly an American name." 
 
 "I believe she is of foreign parentage." 
 
 "Of course you know all about her?" Mrs. 
 Woodbridge asked significantly. 
 
 Miss Xelva's childlike blue eyes seemed to 
 be turned on him. "Confound these suspicious 
 women," he thought resentfully. 
 
 "I am ready to take full responsibility for her," 
 he answered. 
 
120 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge sighed resignedly. 
 
 "Well, we shall be ready for her this afternoon," 
 she said, and Jerry departed. 
 
 A little after four the subject of this discussion, 
 having finished her office duties for the day, put on 
 her hat and turned her steps toward Willow Street. 
 Before a shabby, pretentious brick house she 
 stopped and turned in. An iron deer stood at bay 
 upon the neglected front lawn and bore out the 
 general suggestion that the Perkins mansion had 
 seen better days. 
 
 At the moment of Miss Xelva's approach Miss 
 Perkins was visiting with Miss Twombly, for many 
 years the star boarder, in the up-stairs front room. 
 As the click of the front gate sounded, two pairs of 
 eyes behind the muslin curtains were leveled at 
 the approaching figure. 
 
 "Speaking of angels," said Miss Twombly, sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 "All I can say," observed Miss Perkins, as if re- 
 peating a remark just uttered, "is that she looks 
 very much like a lady." 
 
 "But you admit you know nothing about her," 
 said Miss Twombly, triumphantly. "You can't 
 tell me that it 's natural, or accidental for that mat- 
 ter, for a girl with clothes like that to appear in 
 Elmford with seven trunks and take a position in 
 
THE BOOMERANG 121 
 
 Gerald Sumner's office the same week that he gets 
 back from eight years in Paris." 
 
 "I don't know why not," said Miss Perkins, 
 weakly. 
 
 "You know perfectly well." 
 
 "But what can I do about it?" demanded Miss 
 Perkins. 
 
 "That is for you to decide, Sarah," said Miss 
 Twomfaly; "but if the responsibility were on my 
 shoulders, I should certainly have a talk with her." 
 
 "But what can I say to her? She never goes out 
 in the evenings." 
 
 "You can ask her where she comes from? She 
 gets no mail." 
 
 "She gets one letter." 
 
 "With a French postmark on it," said Miss 
 Twombly, scornfully. "It seems to me that if I 
 were in your place I should have a plain talk with 
 Addison Sumner." 
 
 "Perhaps I ought to," said Miss Perkins. "But 
 she seems like such a sweet girl." 
 
 "Adventuresses all do. Of course it 's not on 
 my account. Thank goodness I 'm old enough to 
 look out for myself. But with three respectable 
 young men boarding with you besides Anna Hawes 
 you 've got to know about the people you take into 
 your house." 
 
122 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I suppose that 's so," Miss Perkins said hum- 
 bly. "I '11 sound her a little." 
 
 They listened as Miss Xelva came up-stairs and 
 shut the door of her room. 
 
 "There 's no time like the present," said Miss 
 Twombly. A few minutes later Miss Perkins, de- 
 pressed and irresolute, withdrew to carry out her 
 conscientious mission. Miss Twombly, grim and 
 virtuous, went on with her knitting. Ten minutes 
 later the door opened again, and Miss Perkins re- 
 turned, obviously in triumph. 
 
 "Well?" said Miss Twombly, apprehensive lest 
 all should be right. 
 
 "She 's going," said Miss Perkins, "that is, for 
 a month. She wants to keep her room, leave her 
 baggage, and pay her board just as if she was 
 here." 
 
 "But I don't see that that 's finding out anything 
 about her," said Miss Twombly, her wilted hopes 
 rising. 
 
 "You 'd think so if you knew where she was go- 
 ing," said Miss Perkins. She paused as an orator 
 pauses to obtain his effect, then added, "She 's go- 
 ing to Caroline Woodbridge's as a companion and 
 secretary." 
 
 Miss Twombly was staggered, but not defeated. 
 
 "Caroline Woodbridge is a particular woman," 
 
THE BOOMERANG 123 
 
 she admitted, "but all the same I should feel more 
 comfortable if I knew something about the girl. 
 If I were in your place, I 'd certainly speak to her." 
 
 "If she 's good enough for Caroline Woodbridge 
 to take into her house, I 'm satisfied," said Miss 
 Perkins with spirit. "If you 're so anxious, you 
 can speak to her yourself." 
 
 An hour later an expressman called for one of 
 Miss Xelva's seven trunks, and shortly afterwards 
 Miss Xelva followed it to the Woodbridge mansion. 
 
 Though, as Miss Twombly had said, Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge was indeed a particular woman, she was 
 also a kind one. After she had reconciled herself 
 to the idea of having a nurse in the house, there 
 was no question in her mind about making the 
 nurse welcome. 
 
 The September dusk was falling when Miss 
 Xelva rang the bell and was ushered into the family 
 living-room. The shades were drawn and the 
 lamps lighted. As Mrs. Woodbridge came for- 
 ward and extended her hand, the new-comer's face 
 was in shadow. 
 
 "I am glad to see you," Mrs. Woodbridge was 
 saying. "Dr. Sumner has told me pleasant things 
 about you." 
 
 "I 'm afraid he 's told you more than was true," 
 the girl answered. 
 
124 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I 'm not anxious about that," said Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge. "Do sit down." 
 
 As the girl seated herself the light fell upon her 
 face. Mrs. Woodbridge started, and a little ex- 
 clamation escaped her. 
 
 The girl looked up wonderingly. The older 
 woman was still gazing at her. 
 
 "You look so much like an old friend," she 
 said. "It gave me a shock as if I had seen a 
 ghost." 
 
 The girl laughed softly. 
 
 "I seem to be one of the people who are always 
 being taken for some one else," she answered. 
 "You know there are such people. I suppose it 
 shows that I have n't any character of my own." 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge smiled. 
 
 "I don't think it shows that at all. Just the re- 
 verse. You have so much character that you 're 
 a little like every one else. But I mustn't keep 
 you now. We dine at half -past seven. I suppose 
 you 'd like to go to your room and get unpacked." 
 She rang a bell, and a man servant appeared. 
 "Hartley," she said, "please show Miss Xelva to 
 her room and send Margaret to her." 
 
 Virginia hesitated, then turned, and held out her 
 hand. 
 
 "Please let me thank you," she said, with a 
 
THE BOOMERANG 125 
 
 little choke in her voice. "You are so good." 
 
 As she went out Mrs. Woodbridge followed her 
 with her eyes. The contour of the slim figure, the 
 way it moved, recalled more sharply than before 
 that haunting resemblance that had startled her. 
 A moment later, yielding to a mastering impulse, 
 she went hurriedly up-stairs and knocked at the 
 girl's door. 
 
 "Do you mind coming to my room for a 
 minute?" she asked. "I want to speak to you. 
 Margaret will unpack." 
 
 Miss Xelva followed her, wondering. The two 
 women went into the room. The door closed be- 
 hind them. An hour passed before Virginia came 
 out again. 
 
 What took place between them they told no one, 
 but at dinner Mrs. Woodbridge addressed the girl 
 by her first name. 
 
 "You see," she said to Budd, "we 've taken Vir- 
 ginia into the family." 
 
 If Miss Twombly had been witness to this scene, 
 her mind might have been relieved. On the other 
 hand, her suspicions might have been intensified, 
 her theory being that really dangerous adventur- 
 esses wear the mask of virtue. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE next morning Budd began his new regime. 
 By six Virginia had taken his pulse and tem- 
 perature for the chart, and he was out in flannels 
 and a sweater for his half-hour's dog-trot. He 
 came back somewhat out of breath, but glowing 
 from the exercise, ready for his bath and break- 
 fast. After breakfast and a half hour with the 
 morning papers he got into flannels again and re- 
 paired to the old gymnasium that had been fitted 
 up for him in the attic when he was a boy, and 
 began working with chest-weights and dumb-bells. 
 Jerry had prescribed a somewhat severe course of 
 exercise, but Budd was young and muscular, and 
 the physical work seemed from the beginning to 
 relieve the emotional strain that he had been un- 
 dergoing. 
 
 At eleven-thirty he appeared at Jerry's office, 
 whither Virginia had preceded him for the day's 
 office hours, and was given his serum treatment. 
 
 "I think you 're looking better already," said 
 Jerry, cheerfully. "Miss Xelva tells me that 
 
 126 
 
THE BOOMERANG 127 
 
 you 've taken hold like a bulldog. No bad results 
 following yesterday's serum?" 
 
 Budd shook his head and grinned. Jerry's per- 
 sonality acted like a tonic. A man immune from 
 jealousy and the weaknesses that ordinary mortals 
 are subject to was a continuing inspiration. 
 
 "I 'm getting along fine," he answered. "In a 
 week I won't know myself, thanks to the microbes." 
 
 "Well, that 's the way to look at it," said Jerry. 
 "I think you 're going to be a conscientious patient, 
 and if you are n't, I Ve got a watch-dog to keep 
 track of you. Miss Xelva has instructions to be 
 merciless." 
 
 Budd grinned again at Virginia, who was disap- 
 pearing with the tray on which reposed the miracu- 
 lous serum and implements of inoculation. 
 
 "Do you think you are going to get along with 
 her?" Jerry asked as she closed the door. 
 
 "Oh, fine!" said Budd. "You ought to see how 
 mother has taken to her. Calls her 'my dear' and 
 'Virgie' already." 
 
 "Of course I knew she would," said Jerry, "but 
 I 'm glad to hear it." His gratification was deeper 
 than his manner suggested. The truth was that 
 after he had installed his office attendant with Mrs. 
 Woodbridge he had had some misgivings. It had 
 dawned upon him that it was one thing for a 
 
12$ THE BOOMERANG 
 
 bachelor doctor to engage an attractive young 
 woman without references, but entirely another 
 thing to place her in a household like Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge's. He had no doubts or suspicions himself. 
 A girl with eyes like that could n't be anything but 
 all right, but he realized that he could hardly ex- 
 pect Mrs. Woodbridge to see the matter from the 
 same point of view if the facts had been explained 
 to her. 
 
 "She fits in so well," Budd went on, "that I 
 don't think even the servants suspect she 's come to 
 look after me. I 've told Hartley that I 'm going 
 into training so as to be in shape to play hockey 
 this winter, and that 's all there is to it." 
 
 "That was a good idea," said Jerry, "and we '11 
 have you ready for hockey or ten rounds with Mc- 
 Govern before the month is out. And as for old 
 George Jealousy, you '11 forget there was any such 
 person." 
 
 Budd smiled and retired to the operating-room 
 for the siesta that followed the serum. 
 
 When the door closed after him, Jerry's cheerful 
 countenance became thoughtful. Inwardly he was 
 not feeling the confidence he avowed. He realized 
 that if Grace had ever cared for Budd in a serious 
 way, his disappearance would shortly have its 
 effect, and he believed that a girl like Grace would 
 
THE BOOMERANG 129 
 
 not let him slip away from her without making 
 some kind of effort to keep her hold on him. 
 Of course, if she was seriously interested in Pres- 
 ton and had made up her mind to marry him, she 
 might be glad to have Budd disappear, but Jerry 
 was far from being convinced that such was the 
 case. At all events, it was "her move," and he 
 looked forward to it with more anxiety than he 
 would have confessed. Budd's chances of getting 
 what his heart wanted, if not of getting back his 
 health, depended on it. 
 
 In the main Jerry's first impressions of Grace 
 were being borne out. She had the making of a 
 fine woman if the right man came along to develop 
 her. But as he expressed it to himself, her trouble 
 was that she was something more than a hundred 
 per cent, female. Her curiosity as to the opposite 
 sex was insatiable. She simply had to give every- 
 thing that wore trousers the "once over" and in- 
 vestigate pretty thoroughly all that showed promise. 
 It was all very well to call this the fundamental 
 impulse of woman and the basis of feminine at- 
 tractiveness, but with Grace it needed to be regu- 
 lated. Given a free hand, it resulted in atrocities 
 upon the male heart compared with which the cat's 
 practices upon the canary were tenderness and con- 
 sideration. If Budd could learn how to deal with 
 
130 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 it and protect himself, all would be well. If not, 
 he would be much better off blighted at once or 
 even comfortably buried. 
 
 During the afternoon on the links Grace made 
 no reference to his patient an attitude which 
 Jerry interpreted as a good sign. After the scene 
 which Jerry divined had taken place, she would 
 have been more apt to have made some reference to 
 him if his three days' disappearance had not made 
 an impression upon her. 
 
 The fourth day Budd's affairs were to some ex- 
 tent driven from Jerry's mind by a sudden and 
 unexpected influx of new patients. The influx 
 amount to only four, but by comparison it was 
 none the less an influx. It appeared that Mrs. 
 Woodbridge was responsible for it. She did a 
 great deal of charitable work among the employees 
 of the plow works of which her husband had 
 been president, and as the result of her weekly 
 visiting tour, a woman with a sprained wrist and 
 a child with whooping-cough appeared at Jerry's 
 office. He was also called by telephone to visit 
 two sick people, the second of whom proved to be 
 suffering with typhoid. The circumstance that 
 they had no money to pay him added to his in- 
 terest. To be helping people who needed help 
 proved a new and agreeable experience. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 131 
 
 Thus it happened that he was not in the office 
 when Budd appeared for his treatment on the sixth 
 day. He had slipped out a little after eleven to 
 visit the typhoid patient. When he returned just 
 after twelve he found Budd still waiting for him. 
 
 A glance at the boy showed that something had 
 happened. His mouth was set. The old look was 
 in his eyes. 
 
 "Well," said Jerry, cheerfully, "you seem to 
 have something on your chest. What 's new?" 
 
 "I promised you that I would n't see any of my 
 old friends," Budd answered solemnly. "But 
 what am I going to do about this?" He reverently 
 laid on the desk a note in a handwriting that Jerry 
 recognized, and began to pace the floor. 
 
 "Am I to read this?" 
 
 The boy nodded. 
 
 " 'DEAR BUDD,' " Jerry began aloud: " 'Where 
 are you keeping yourself?' ' 
 
 "It 's 'where are you keeping yourself,' " cor- 
 rected Budd. "She 's got a line under the 'are.' ' 
 
 Jerry gave him an amazed look and went 
 on. 
 
 * 'I Ve been afraid you were ill and was 
 so ' ' He paused in difficulty over the next 
 word, but was promptly assisted by Budd from the 
 other side of the room. 
 
132 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "That word is 'glad, 9 " he said. "It reads, 'I 've 
 been afraid you were ill and was so glad to hear 
 you were out walking yesterday.' ' 
 
 "Letter-perfect," observed Jerry, following the 
 manuscript. Then he read on: " 'I 'm giving a 
 bridge party Thursday evening, and you must 
 come, As ever, GRACE.' ' He paused thought- 
 fully. Grace had moved. This was her play. 
 
 "There 's some more on the next page," said 
 Budd. " 'p. s. Come early.' " 
 
 Jerry turned the page, verified Budd's announce- 
 ment, and smiled. 
 
 "You seem to have a fairly correct idea of the 
 contents of this epistle," he observed. He tossed 
 it back to Budd, who replaced it tenderly in his 
 breast pocket. Jerry regarded him in silence, con- 
 sidering the situation. Obviously Grace was not 
 ready to let Budd slip away; in all probability it 
 indicated two things: first, that she was not engaged 
 to Preston, and, also, that she liked Budd more 
 than she allowed him to believe. At the same time 
 if she could whistle him back like a dog whenever 
 she pleased, the matter would be where it was a 
 week ago. The trouble was that Budd gave every 
 indication of being anxious to be whistled back. 
 
 "Well," said Jerry at last, "what is your idea 
 about this party? Do you want to go to it?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 133 
 
 "Don't you think it might be a good thing? Just 
 this once? I 'm so much better you see " 
 
 "Then your idea would be to write: 'DEAR 
 GRACE: It is very good of you to think of me. I 
 shall love to come'?" 
 
 "Something like that," said Budd. "It would 
 show I was getting well again." 
 
 "The first person you 'd meet would be Preston 
 De Witt. Grace would be civil to him, and in five 
 minutes you 'd throw a fit and want to strangle him, 
 and you 'd ask Grace what she meant by having 
 him at the party. She 'd hand you some plain 
 talk, and then you 'd be back here on the run ask- 
 ing for a double dose of bugs. Is n't that right?" 
 
 Budd made no answer. His eyes brimmed, and 
 he turned toward the window. 
 
 "No," said Jerry, kindly; "this is n't the time to 
 accept invitations. This is our one best chance, 
 Budd. The bugs for curing the jealousy are all 
 right, but they can't do it all off their own bat. 
 We 've got to help 'em. Here and now you 've got 
 to learn the first principles of dealing with that 
 most dangerous of animals, the female of our 
 species. It is n't that my nerves are so much better 
 than yours that I Ve escaped from your disease, 
 but because I use a little common sense and realize 
 what I 'm up against." 
 
134 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I suppose you 're right," said Budd, despair- 
 ingly, "only if you have n't any common sense 
 what are you going to do?" 
 
 "Take the advice of a good doctor," said Jerry 
 with a grin, "just as you 're going to do. Now 
 we '11 attend to this correspondence of yours as it 
 ought to be done. The great thing in a situation 
 like this is to keep the other fellow guessing. If 
 you come running when they whistle, it 's all off, 
 but if they 're not sure about you, it adds interest. 
 Never forget that the lady is a hunting animal and 
 if you want to get along comfortably with her, it 's 
 a good thing to keep her busy hunting. My idea 
 of an answer is something like this." He took a 
 pencil and began to write on the scribble pad, read- 
 ing aloud as he went along: 
 
 " 'GRACE DEAR' You see, you want to be 
 friendly," he explained. 
 
 Budd smiled a sickly smile. 
 
 " 'So nice to hear from you don't count on me 
 for Thursday, but you know I '11 come if I can. 
 Awfully busy. Affectionately and hurriedly, 
 BUDD." 
 
 Budd listened without enthusiasm. 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "It 's enough. What do you think of it?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 135 
 
 "Well," said Budd, "it does n't sound very much 
 like my letters." 
 
 "Of course it does n't. That 's the point of it. 
 Henceforth you 're a new and different Budd, 
 much less easily picked and, therefore, much more 
 desirable. Some day you can explain to her how 
 the nice little bugs have made you over into a new 
 and wiser man." 
 
 "All right," said Budd, resignedly. "I '11 copy 
 it off." He took Jerry's draft and started for the 
 door. 
 
 Jerry appeared to be lost in thought, but before 
 Budd got out, he called him back. 
 
 "Just a minute," he said. "While we 're at it 
 we might as well get number two off our chests." 
 
 "Number two?" Budd asked in perplexity. 
 
 Jerry nodded. 
 
 "Yes, our next effort. You won't go to the 
 party; so the day after it will be only civil to send 
 a line calling attention to the fact in case she hasn't 
 missed you." He wrote: 
 
 DEAR GRACE: Awfully sorry I missed the party. 
 Can you forgive me? Terribly ashamed. Forgot all 
 about it. BUDD. 
 
 Budd regarded him in shocked amazement. 
 
136 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "But what will she think!" he gasped. 
 
 "That 's what we are going to find out." 
 
 "But she '11 never speak to me again." 
 
 "Well, you wanted to be cured, didn't you?" 
 said Jerry. "If she never speaks to you again, 
 that 's one way of doing it; but it 's just possible 
 that she won't take it that way. If by any chance 
 you should hear anything from her, come in and 
 tell me about it." 
 
 Budd sighed. 
 
 "She '11 never write me again," he faltered, and 
 started for the door. 
 
 "Do you want to bet on that?" Jerry called after 
 him, but there was no answer. 
 
 A week passed, and Budd's daily visits to the 
 office were solely for the purpose of receiving the 
 treatment administed by Miss Xelva. Jerry met 
 him once as he passed through the hall to speak to 
 a patient in the waiting-room and noted that he was 
 looking well and seemed to have recovered from 
 his temporary set-back. He had no time to stop 
 and talk, for the waiting-room was half full of new 
 patients. His success with the first four, not im- 
 probably assisted by the circumstance that he de- 
 clined a fee from the family with the typhoid suf- 
 ferer, sent the whole of Milltown flocking to his 
 office; so for the first time in his life he was really 
 
THE BOOMERANG 137 
 
 hard at work. The result was to drive Budd's 
 problem to a certain extent out of his mind and 
 make him rely on the favorable repprts that Vir- 
 ginia brought him daily. 
 
 On the following Thursday, however, just after 
 Budd had had his treatment, Virginia came in and 
 announced that her patient wished to see him. 
 
 "Well," said Jerry, "I suppose you want to tell 
 me you 've been gaining weight.. How much is 
 it?" 
 
 "Five and three quarters this morning," Budd 
 answered, "but that isn't what I want to tell 
 you." 
 
 "Out with it, then. What is it?" 
 
 Budd grinned sheepishly. 
 
 "I 've had another letter." 
 
 "What did I tell you?" said Jerry. 
 
 Budd grinned again. His hand went to his 
 breast pocket, and he laid the missive on the desk. 
 
 Jerry opened it and read: 
 
 MY DEAR BUDD: You 're a bad boy and I 'm dread- 
 fully angry with you. But for once I '11 forgive you 
 just because you Ve asked me to. Is n't that good of me? 
 If you 've nothing better to do drop in to-morrow for 
 tea. GRACE. 
 
 P. S. Be here at four. There are some people com- 
 ing at five. 
 
138 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Jerry considered this epistle with a satisfaction 
 which he made an effort to conceal. 
 
 "You see, I was right about her forgiving you," 
 he said. 
 
 "I think it was awfully good of her," said Budd. 
 "It was fearfully rude to write that I 'd forgotten 
 about the bridge party." 
 
 "It was," said Jerry, "and I 've every hope thai 
 we '11 make a real rude man of you yet, with the 
 assistance of the good little bugs, but I suppose all 
 this goodness has upset you again." 
 
 "No," said Budd; "only I really do think I ought 
 to go just this once." 
 
 "I suppose so," said Jerry. He turned his eyes 
 upward and gazed at the ceiling as if doing a prob- 
 lem in mental arithmetic. 
 
 "Just seeing her once could n't hurt me," Budd 
 ventured. "I 'm so much better now." 
 
 Jerry, apparently having solved his problem, 
 turned on him suddenly. 
 
 "Do you know where she is at present?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 Budd flushed guiltily. 
 
 "I saw her motoring out toward the country club 
 about half an hour ago. She did n't see me. It 
 was just as I was coming over here for my treat- 
 ment." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 139 
 
 "Good," said Jerry. He picked up the desk 
 telephone. "What 's her number?" 
 
 Budd gave it. 
 
 "Here," Jerry said as he handed him the instru- 
 ment, "call up the house, ask for her, and when you 
 find she 's out, leave word that you can't possibly 
 manage to get in to-morrow, but that you '11 explain 
 later." 
 
 Pain showed on the boy's countenance. 
 
 "But why should n't I go just this once?" he fal- 
 tered. "It won't interfere with my walk." 
 
 Jerry picked up the letter again. 
 
 "I '11 tell you why. Perhaps you did n't notice 
 that she advised you to come at four because some 
 people were coming in at five. Have n't you 
 imagination enough to tell you who 'some people' 
 means?" 
 
 For answer Budd took the instrument. 
 
 "Give me five four six three Elm," he told the 
 operator. 
 
 "That 's better," said Jerry and smiled approv- 
 ingly while Budd spoke his piece and rang off. 
 
 "But when shall I explain why I can't come?" 
 Budd asked. 
 
 "You 're young," said Jerry. "You 've got a 
 lifetime to explain in. Don't be in a hurry about 
 it. There is nothing that will interest Grace as 
 
140 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 much as things that are unexplained. As I 've 
 told you, your job is not only to get well, but to be- 
 come interesting." 
 
 Budd gazed at him, misery mingling with ad- 
 miration. 
 
 "I wish I were like you," he said, and departed. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 ALTHOUGH Miss Xelva's installation at the 
 Woodbridges entirely satisfied Miss Perkins 
 as to the propriety of her social status, Miss Twom- 
 bly clung to her doubts. Naturally she knew noth- 
 ing of what passed between Mrs. Woodbridge and 
 Miss Xelva on the evening of the latter's arrival, 
 but she knew that she was much more a woman 
 of the world than Miss Perkins and hence more 
 responsible for the morals of the community. For 
 the ten days following Miss Xelva's departure from 
 the boarding-house she directed her morning walk 
 up Elm Street in the hope of meeting Colonel Sum- 
 ner. It so happened that she encountered him on 
 the morning that Jerry had discussed with Budd 
 Grace's ' invitation to tea. Just what passed be- 
 tween them or how she managed to satisfy her pub- 
 lic-spirited conscience is immaterial, but that even- 
 ing after Marion had gone to bed the colonel lit a 
 fresh cigar and began with a diplomatic indirection 
 which indicated that something was on his mind. 
 "Jerry," he said, "I want to tell you that the way 
 
 141 
 
142 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 you 've been taking hold of your work has pleased 
 me more than I can say. Frankly, I did n't expect 
 it so soon. It 's all very well to say that Caroline 
 Woodbridge has sent these people to you, but if 
 you were n't making good, they would n't come." 
 
 "I 'm sure I 'm glad that you 're glad," said 
 Jerry. "I Ve certainly had good luck." 
 
 "It 's more than luck," said the colonel, 
 warmly. "I 'm proud of you." 
 
 "You can go as far as you like," said Jerry, 
 cheerfully. "I 've got quite a back account to 
 settle before I 'm in danger of getting much of an 
 idea of myself. But there is one thing this town 
 ought to have," he added, "and that is a proper 
 hospital. If I make good I 'm going to try to see 
 to it that it gets one." 
 
 ' "You're right about that," said the colonel. 
 "We '11 have to take hold of it one of these days." 
 
 "If we could touch some one for about a mil- 
 lion." 
 
 "We '11 get it," the colonel assented. 
 
 There was silence, and he flicked the ashes of 
 his cigar in the direction of the fireplace. 
 
 "By the way," he said casually, "that little office 
 nurse of yours seems an intelligent, capable sort 
 of girl." 
 
 "She is," said Jerry. "I don't know how I 'd 
 
THE BOOMERANG 143 
 
 get along without her. She looks after these poor 
 people that come in with little surgical cases as if 
 she were father, mother, nurse, and house surgeon 
 all in one. She 's a wonder. And besides all 
 that, she 's looking after Budd on the side. That 's 
 confidential," he added. "I told you that he'd 
 been in to consult me, but Mrs. Woodbridge did n't 
 want it known that he was under regular treat- 
 ment." 
 
 "I see," said the colonel, congratulating him- 
 self that the subject had opened so naturally. "Is 
 it anything serious?" 
 
 "Nerves," Jerry answered. "He '11 come 
 through all right. But I wanted some one on the 
 job to keep tabs on him. The fact is that Miss 
 Xelva is supposed to be at the Woodbridges' in the 
 capacity of secretary to Mrs. Woodbridge. She 
 does n't want it known that Budd is a patient." 
 
 "I see," said the colonel again. "You were 
 lucky to find a trained nurse that you could send 
 to the Woodbridges in that way. Where did you 
 get hold of her?" 
 
 "Just turned up. Dropped from heaven." 
 
 The colonel looked somewhat gravely at his son. 
 
 "Of course that 's a figure of speech," he said. 
 "Her references must have told you something 
 about her." 
 
144 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I never asked for her references. She 's a 
 lady, and that 's enough." 
 
 "But you must know something about her. You 
 could n't very well put her in Mrs. Woodbridge's 
 house without knowing who she was." 
 
 Jerry met his father's eye. 
 
 "What has happened?" he demanded quietly. 
 
 "Nothing has happened." 
 
 "Yes, there has," said Jerry, firmly. "Some 
 one has been talking. Is it Marion?" 
 
 "Marion has never mentioned Miss Xelva to me 
 except when she first came. I recall her saying 
 that you had engaged a very nice-looking young 
 woman as nurse and office attendant." 
 
 "Has Mrs. Woodbridge said anything?" 
 
 The colonel shook his head. 
 
 "She 's never spoken of her to me." 
 
 "Well, somebody has been talking to you," in- 
 sisted Jerry, "and I won't have it. That girl is 
 more nearly a saint than anybody I 've ever known, 
 and I 'm not going to have anybody making insin- 
 uations." 
 
 "Still, you must be reasonable," said the colonel. 
 "You come back from abroad, and just as you start 
 practice, a very attractive young woman, appar- 
 ently a foreigner, appears in Elmford without ap- 
 parent reason, and you take her into your office 
 
THE BOOMERANG 145 
 
 and assign her to a peculiarly confidential case in 
 Mrs. Woodbridge's house. Just let me finish. If 
 you say it 's all right, that ends the matter as far 
 as I am concerned ; but you must see, my boy, that 
 a young doctor just starting to practise in a place 
 like Elmford has to be exceedingly careful. It 
 is n't fair to Miss Xelva, and it is n't fair to Caro- 
 line Woodbridge." 
 
 Jerry was on his feet, his eyes flashing wrath- 
 fully. 
 
 "Of all the outrageous, infamous, filthy, rot- 
 ten suspicions," he burst out, "this is the worst! 
 You might just as well talk this way about Marion, 
 and I don't know but what you might have a great 
 deal more reason. She 's always doing outrageous 
 things, but this girl why, Father, if you knew Vir- 
 ginia as I have come to know her and depend on 
 her during the last three weeks, you 'd be ashamed 
 of the very thought. I never saw any one as fine 
 and with as much character and sheer goodness. 
 Just one look face to face with her is enough to 
 satisfy anybody. Mrs. Woodbridge is crazy about 
 her, calls her by her first name, and treats her like 
 a member of the family." 
 
 "I don't doubt that all you say is true," said the 
 colonel. "Only the fact remains that you don't 
 know anything about her, and the circumstance 
 
146 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 that Mrs. Woodbridge has taken to her puts all the 
 more responsibility on to you. It ought to be per- 
 fectly simple to find out something about her if she 
 is half what you say she is, and all I am asking is 
 that you take the simple precautions which com- 
 mon sense and convention demand." 
 
 Jerry controlled himself with difficulty and was 
 silent for a time. Then he said : 
 
 "I '11 see Mrs. Woodbridge, but I wish you 
 would tell me who 's been talking to you. Is it 
 any one in this house?" 
 
 "It was no one in this house," the colonel 
 answered. "More than that I can't say. But 
 don't think that I don't quite agree with you about 
 Miss Xelva. But in fairness to her you ought to 
 get her references and find out why she is doing 
 something which from what I have gathered seems 
 somewhat different from what she has been accus- 
 tomed to. Can't you see that this is the reasonable 
 course?" 
 
 "It may be," Jerry answered. "But it makes 
 me sore all the way through. However, I '11 have 
 a talk with Mrs. Woodbridge to-morrow." 
 
 "That 's all I ask," said the colonel. 
 
 The next afternoon a little after five Jerry started 
 on foot for the Woodbridges'. He was still angry 
 and indignant, though he now had himself in hand 
 
THE BOOMERANG 147 
 
 and could see the force of his father's contention. 
 What fortified his indignation arid made it right- 
 eous in his own eyes, at least, was his attitude to- 
 ward the girl. If he had ever thought of her ex- 
 cept as he might think of his sister or as a father 
 might think of his daughter, he would not have 
 been so sure of himself. But Jerry knew the world 
 too well to be taken in. If Virginia was not what 
 she appeared to be, he knew that he would have 
 found it out. Mr. Emerson exclaims, "How can 
 a man be concealed?" Jerry knew that it would 
 be even more impossible for a woman working 
 daily in his office. She had always faced him with 
 the same frank, trustful eyes that had appealed to 
 him the day that she asked him for a position. He 
 always thought of her as a child rather than as a 
 woman; yet as the days passed, her judgment, 
 capability, and quickness of perception made him 
 rely upon her as he would have relied upon a man. 
 Just how much he had come to rely upon her he 
 first realized during the conversation with his 
 father, when the possibility of doing without her 
 had passed through his mind. As a matter of 
 fact, she had not only helped him at every turn, but 
 he could see now that it was her fine enthusiasm 
 for helping suffering that first made him see the 
 possibilities of his profession and led him to take 
 
148 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 himself seriously. The results of a few short 
 weeks of this new attitude toward his work had 
 been so fruitful that he felt himself under deep 
 obligations to her already. All this intensified his 
 resentment at the village gossip that was evidently 
 beginning to spread about her. At the same time 
 a day's reflection had made him realize that the 
 situation was one that demanded treatment with 
 a light hand. 
 
 The girl obviously had been brought up in an 
 atmosphere of good breeding and at least a degree 
 of luxury. It was also evident that something had 
 happened to throw her out upon the world, de- 
 pendent upon her own efforts for a living; but until 
 she chose to speak of these things, they were her 
 own affair. He was resolved not to subject her to 
 the humiliation of answering leading questions. 
 He was also resolved to protect her from the Elm- 
 ford gossips. The only way that he saw of accom- 
 plishing this was to talk frankly with Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge. 
 
 As he reached the latter's house, he noticed a 
 half-familiar runabout standing by the curb. He 
 turned in and went up the walk toward the front 
 door. Just as he reached the veranda, the door 
 opened, and, Preston De Witt came out. If it had 
 
THE BOOMERANG 149 
 
 been the kaiser, Jerry's surprise could not have 
 been greater. 
 
 "Hello, Preston," he said. 
 
 "Hello," Preston answered and passed on. 
 
 Jerry rang the bell and stood gazing at the 
 young man. Here was a new angle in the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 Hartley, the butler, opened the door. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Woodbridge in?" asked Jerry. 
 
 "No, sir," said Hartley. "She 's out in the mo- 
 tor. Any message you wish to leave, sir?" 
 
 Jerry hesitated a moment. 
 
 "No," he said. "Is Mr. Budd in?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. Do you wish to see him?" 
 
 "No," said Jerry, "not now." He turned and 
 went down the steps. 
 
 The next morning Jerry left word with Virginia 
 that when Budd came for his treatment he wished 
 to see him. If Budd and Preston had been hav- 
 ing a set-to, he wanted to know about it. Just be- 
 fore noon the boy came into his office. Jerry scru- 
 tinized him for evidence of a nervous set-back. 
 Budd's color was good. His general appearance 
 more normal and cheerful than any day yet. 
 "Weight still going up?" Jerry asked. 
 Budd grinned and nodded. 
 
150 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "The fat man's class for me," he answered. 
 
 "Any more letters?" 
 
 Budd grew serious and shook his head. 
 
 "I guess you 've fixed that," he said. 
 
 "Don't worry about it," said Jerry, reassuringly. 
 "You '11 come out all right. What I wanted to ask 
 you about was this. If it 's not indelicate, what 
 were you doing with Preston yesterday?" 
 
 "Preston?" Budd repeated. 
 
 "Apparently he favored you with an afternoon 
 call," said Jerry. "I thought he might have 
 dropped in to leave you a box of rat poison or an 
 invitation to a duel." 
 
 A look of comprehension came into the boy's 
 face, and he smiled shrewdly. 
 
 "No," he answered. "Nothing doing with me. 
 I heard he called, though." 
 
 "Friend of your mother's?" 
 
 Budd shook his head. 
 
 "No; he was calling on Virginia." 
 
 "On Virginia?" A sudden blankness came over 
 Jerry's face. "Oh, I see," he said, although he 
 did n't see at all. He changed the subject and be- 
 gan to ask Budd what he thought of the chances of 
 the Giants in the World Series. When the boy 
 had gone, he rose and paced the length of the room 
 and back. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 151 
 
 Why in the name of heaven was Preston De 
 Witt calling on Virginia? Where had he met 
 her? Had some of this talk that his father had 
 picked up come to Preston? Did he think he could 
 play with her? 
 
 Jerry felt the blood throbbing in his temples. 
 His hands clenched. At that moment if Preston 
 De Witt had entered the office convicted of the un- 
 amiable intentions that Jerry attributed to him, 
 in all likelihood he would have departed in an am- 
 bulance. 
 
 As Jerry realized the absurdity of these mental 
 dramatics, his tension relaxed, and he laughed. It 
 was unlikely that Preston had heard anything about 
 Virginia. The probability was rather the reverse, 
 since Preston enjoyed the reputation of being one 
 of those young men who always fall in love with 
 ladies who happen to be rich and socially conspic- 
 uous. 
 
 The chances were that Mrs. Woodbridge had 
 taken Virginia to the country club, Preston had 
 been presented to her and had supposed that she 
 was visiting Mrs. Woodbridge. When he found 
 out the true situation he would call no more, which 
 would be just as well. Although Jerry had not 
 contemplated Virginia marrying any one, now that 
 the idea had been suggested to him, he did n't want 
 
152 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 the man to be Preston. The best man in the world 
 would hardly be good enough for her. 
 
 "I suppose I can understand a little how a father 
 feels," he said to himself. "If I were Virginia's 
 father, I 'd certainly wring the neck of any little 
 shrimp like De Witt who had tried to butt in." 
 
 Late that afternoon he found Mrs. Woodbridge 
 at home. Before he had a chance to get started she 
 began about Budd. 
 
 "It 's wonderful what you Ve done for him," she 
 said. "He 's a different boy. He 's more him- 
 self than he 's been in a year. When I think how 
 our dear old Doctor Kales and all the rest of them 
 could n't help him, and then realize what you 've 
 done, I want to tell everybody." 
 
 "You 'd better not hire any halls," said Jerry. 
 "You 've sent me enough patients already. I don't 
 want to ruin my health." 
 
 "And you were so right about insisting upon the 
 nurse," she went on. "I never can be grateful 
 enough to you for sending Virginia to us." 
 
 "I want to speak to you about that," said Jerry. 
 "Of course I 'm glad she 's been satisfactory. I 
 knew she would be, but I want you to remember 
 that I recommended her as a nurse. The secre- 
 tary and companion business was well what 
 you might call another order. You understand?" 
 

 
 THE BOOMERANG 153 
 
 "I understand that we did n't want people to 
 know that Budd was ill," said Mrs. Woodbridge, 
 but I don't quite see what you're driving at. 
 Virginia has been as satisfactory as a secretary as 
 she has been as a nurse." 
 
 "What I mean is this," said Jerry, bluntly. "As 
 a nurse I could speak for her. But when you in- 
 troduce her socially you must do that on your own 
 responsibility. I don't know anything about her 
 family. I 've never asked her about it, and she 's 
 never chosen to tell me." 
 
 "Do you suspect that socially she's not 
 quite " She paused, and an amused look 
 flashed in her eyes. 
 
 "I do not," said Jerry, hotly. "I think that so- 
 cially and every other way she 's 0. K., but I 'm 
 just telling you that I don't know anything about 
 her people. You women are so fussy about such 
 things that I want to have a clear understanding. 
 That 's all what lawyers call getting it on the 
 record." 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge gazed at him gravely, but her 
 eyes danced. 
 
 "I think you 've behaved with great caution, 
 Gerald. However, as Budd would say, I 'm 
 ready to take a chance on Virginia. I can't tell 
 you about it yet, and you mustn't mention my 
 
154 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 referring to it, but the fact is I think we 're going 
 to have a little surprise for you." 
 
 "That concerns Miss Xelva?" 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge nodded. 
 
 "You 're not going to tell me she 's going to 
 marry Budd?" Jerry blurted out. 
 
 "I 'm afraid not that," she answered, laughing. 
 "I wish it were that." 
 
 Jerry looked at her sharply. 
 
 "It doesn't concern that fellow De Witt?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 It was Mrs. Woodbridge who showed surprise 
 now. 
 
 "Whatever put that in your head?" she asked 
 evasively. 
 
 "Well, he 's been coming here to see her, and I 
 don't think he 's the kind of young man that ought 
 to be encouraged." 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge laughed uproariously. 
 
 "What's the matter with you, Gerald? You 
 come and warn me against the child, and now you 
 act as if you were her father, mother, and maiden 
 aunt." 
 
 "Simply this," said Jerry: "she 's my office as- 
 sistant, and in a way I 'm responsible for her. I 
 idon't think De Witt is the kind of man that I want 
 to see her playing around with." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 155 
 
 "You 've certainly made that quite plain," said 
 Mrs. Woodbridge. "Now I '11 give you a piece of 
 advice. Virginia is capable of managing her own 
 affairs, and if she were n't, I 'm here and ready to 
 help her. As for Preston De Witt," she added, "I 
 think he 's a very intelligent young man, and if he 
 comes here to see Virginia, he comes with my en- 
 tire approval." She smiled on Jerry in a motherly 
 fashion, but there was a mischievous light in her 
 eyes that made Jerry wonder. 
 
 "There's something fishy about all this," he 
 said. "What is it?" 
 
 "You '11 know nothing more than I 've told you," 
 she answered. And there the conversation ended 
 as far as Virginia was concerned. 
 
 As Jerry was going, she stopped him with a ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "Budd's birthday is next Tuesday. Don't you 
 think I could have a little party for him?" 
 
 "Offhand, I should say no," Jerry answered. 
 "But I'll think about it. I'll let you know." 
 He took his hat and departed. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 ON the way home Jerry did some thinking and 
 arrived at several conclusions. In the first 
 place, Mrs. Woodbridge must in some way have 
 satisfied herself as to Virginia's status. In all 
 probability the girl had told her where she came 
 from and had talked with her about her family 
 and past life. In the second place, whether Pres- 
 ton De Witt or any other young man was interested 
 in her was none of his business. She was his 
 office attendant and nothing else. He had rather 
 played the fool in allowing himself to become 
 worked up about it. In sober after thought he was 
 perplexed that he should have done so. Possibly 
 he was tired, and his point of view a little out of 
 focus. 
 
 The possibility of Preston's having become in- 
 terested in Virginia raised several entertaining 
 possibilities regarding Grace. If Preston was 
 really giving Virginia "a rush," it meant that Grace 
 was holding him at arm's-length, and that was the 
 important aspect of the matter as it concerned 
 Budd. It occurred to him that this might be the 
 
 156 
 
THE BOOMERANG 157 
 
 time to send Budd out to reconnoiter the enemy's 
 defenses and see how things stood, also to test the 
 boy's progress in the noble art of taking care of 
 himself. The difficulty, however, was in arrang- 
 ing the meeting so that in case Budd fared badly 
 he could intervene before any serious mischief was 
 done. 
 
 Suddenly an idea came to him, inspired by Mrs. 
 Woodbridge's request for a birthday party. Budd 
 should have his party. It would be arranged as a 
 surprise. Grace would be there, and there would 
 be certain other surprise features stage-managed by 
 himself, and he would be on hand himself to ob- 
 serve the course of events and ready in case of 
 need to bring first aid to the injured. As the plan 
 took shape he chuckled. The politics of juvenile 
 love amused him. 
 
 That evening he took Marion into his confidence 
 as far as was needful to insure the presence of 
 Grace. He told her merely that Budd had been 
 ill and under treatment for nearly a month, and 
 now he was planning to celebrate his recovery by a 
 little surprise party on the evening of his birth- 
 day. Marion approved of the idea and began to 
 make out a list of people. The third name that 
 she wrote down was Grace's. 
 
 "Yes, we must have her," Jerry observed casu- 
 
158 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 ally, "and we must make sure that everybody turns 
 up. A surprise party where half the people back 
 out at the last minute is rather ghastly." 
 
 "You can leave that to me," said Marion. "I '11 
 produce everybody that I ask." 
 
 "And especially Grace," he put in. "I want to 
 get a little fun out of this party myself." 
 
 Marion eyed him with motherly indulgence. 
 
 "You don't seem to have been cutting much ice 
 lately in that direction." 
 
 "Been too busy," Jerry answered. "But that re- 
 minds me, there 's no need of having Preston. Let 
 me have a free field for once." 
 
 "All right," she answered; "we'll suppress 
 Preston. I don't think he and Budd have ever been 
 very intimate." 
 
 "Good," said Jerry. "You see about the music, 
 and I '11 arrange with Mrs. Wood bridge about 
 supper." 
 
 After some thought on the matter Jerry called 
 Virginia into consultation. He explained the pro- 
 posed party and asked her what she thought the 
 effect of Grace's presence would be on Budd. 
 Virginia weighed the question. 
 
 "You know how her letters have upset him," she 
 said. "Don't you think that seeing her like that 
 in his own house will set him back?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 159 
 
 Jerry grinned. 
 
 "I think it's going to set him back for life. 
 That 's what I 'm counting on, anyway. If he can't 
 be happy without her, the next best thing is to 
 see if he can be happy with her." 
 
 The girl looked surprised. 
 
 "But I thought she was in love with Mr. De 
 Witt." 
 
 Jerry glanced at her sharply. Was she putting 
 something over on him? Was that innocent, 
 honest gaze only a mask, after all? On this 
 subject Jerry was inclined to hold all ladies sus- 
 pect. 
 
 "I don't believe it," he said. "I think they have 
 both been playing. In fact I think Preston is busy 
 on another job." He watched for some telltale 
 deepening of her color, but nothing happened. If 
 she had anything to conceal, she did it master- 
 fully. 
 
 "But you surely don't believe that Miss Tyler 
 cares for Mr. Woodbridge?" she said with a note 
 of incredulity. 
 
 "I don't believe she thinks she does now," he 
 answered, "but I believe she used to, and if she 
 did once, she can be made to again." 
 
 "Made to?" Virginia repeated. 
 
 "Yes, made to." 
 
160 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Virginia's lip curled. 
 
 "If she 's that kind of girl, I think he 's better 
 off without her." 
 
 "She 's not 'that kind of girl.' She 's an awfully 
 nice girl. Oh, yes, she is." 
 
 "Then how could she have treated him so?" 
 Virginia demanded. 
 
 "Don't blame her," said Jerry. "It was n't her 
 fault." 
 
 "It certainly was n't his," she retorted. 
 
 "Yes; the fault was Budd's." 
 
 "Oh, you can't mean that!" she cried. "His 
 devotion to that girl is perfectly beautiful." 
 
 "Yes, and see where it 's landed him! So 
 you 've got these highfalutin notions, too?" 
 
 She made no denial, and he went on: 
 
 "My dear child, that kind of thing is very ro- 
 mantic and beautiful in books, but it 's pretty dan- 
 gerous stuff to tie up to. Some day you '11 be un- 
 lucky enough to fall in love yourself." 
 
 Virginia smiled. 
 
 "You don't think that 's possible, I suppose." 
 
 "It might be." 
 
 "Then you ought to know the truth about it." 
 
 "I 'd like to," she answered. 
 
 "Then I '11 tell you. The truth is that it 's all 
 a game! 9 
 
THE BOOMERANG 161 
 
 She uttered a protest. 
 
 "Yes; that's what it is a mean, selfish, rotten 
 game." 
 
 She burst out laughing. 
 
 "You 're making fun of me. It 's ridiculous to 
 talk that way!" 
 
 "It 's the fact," he answered. "And as soon as 
 you fall in love, the game begins, and you 've got 
 to play it whether you want to or not. Most people 
 play it like Budd, without knowing the rules, and 
 get the worst of it. Now why not be sensible and 
 play it with your eyes open?" 
 
 "I don't think I 'd care to play it at all," she 
 answered gravely. 
 
 "Stuff!" he cried. "If you were in love, 
 would n't you like to know how to win? Would n't 
 you want to bring your victim to your feet make 
 him adore you, believe you the most charming 
 and beautiful and wonderful woman in the world, 
 make him hope for nothing, think of nothing, 
 dream of nothing, but you?" 
 
 "Do you think you can do that by a set of rules?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "Sure," he answered. "I '11 guarantee it." 
 
 "And the rules?" 
 
 "The rules are to avoid all the blunders Budd 
 has made." 
 
162 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I can't see that Budd has made any blunders," 
 she answered defiantly. 
 
 He looked at her hopelessly. 
 
 "He 's done nothing else. In the first place, he 
 showed her that he loved her, honorably, devotedly, 
 exclusively. Note exclusively! That alone was 
 enough to queer him." 
 
 "You mean he should n't have told her?" 
 
 "No; he should have told her whenever he got 
 the chance. His trouble was that he probably 
 did n't tell her at all, but let her find it out from 
 the way he acted. What he should have done was 
 to tell her early and often, but act so that she was 
 never quite sure that he meant it." 
 
 Virginia gave him a shocked look from her mild 
 eyes, but Jerry kept on. 
 
 "In the second place, he was too good to her. 
 He paid her too much attention, was always hang- 
 ing about till his visits became about as exciting as 
 the milkman's. One of the principal rules of the 
 game is judicious absence. Instead, he was always 
 hanging around. She took it as a matter of course 
 and naturally enough began to take notice else- 
 where to bring a little sunshine into life. Then 
 along came jealousy. You can't keep jealousy out 
 of this love stuff, but it 's rare that both parties 
 have it, and if you know how, you can manage it 
 
THE BOOMERANG 163 
 
 so that you 're not the victim. The most important 
 of all the rules is to keep the other fellow jealous 
 and avoid it yourself. If you don't, you end up 
 like Budd jealousy, desperation, despair, doc- 
 tor." 
 
 "Well, I can't say that I think it's a very nice 
 game," said Virginia. 
 
 "I told you that," Jerry answered. "But it's 
 justified by the circumstances, because if you fall 
 in love with a man and let him see your devotion 
 is so great you can't think of anything else, he '11 
 begin to care less and less about you. It 's curi- 
 ous, but it 's so." 
 
 A curious shadow, half of pain, half of wonder, 
 crossed Virginia's face. 
 
 "It 's hard to believe that," she said slowly. 
 "I would n't want to believe it." 
 
 "What you want has n't anything to do with it," 
 said Jerry, grimly. "It 's what always happens, 
 and if I should ever fall in love, you can bet I 'm 
 going to play the game." 
 
 "You?" said the girl. 
 
 "To the limit," he answered. "It 's one's duty 
 as a sane human being. Why, there are thou- 
 sands of poor creatures all over the world whose 
 lives have been ruined just because they loved too 
 much and did n't know it was all a game. And 
 
164 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 that 's Budd's danger. He 's a goner unless we 
 can save him. And that 's what I wanted to speak 
 to you about. As usual, I 'm depending on you 
 to help me. Will you?" 
 
 "Of course," she answered; "but what do you 
 want me to do?" 
 
 "I want you to play the game. I want you to 
 pretend to be in love." 
 
 "You want Miss Tyler to think that I 'm in love 
 with Mr. Woodbridge?" 
 
 "Exactly. It's the trump-card we'll have to 
 play if things don't go well. I want Grace Tyler 
 to think that you and Budd are crazy about each 
 other." 
 
 Virginia laughed. 
 
 "One might be justified in doing a good deal to 
 help the unfortunate, but you could never get Mr. 
 Woodbridge to do his part." 
 
 "I 'm not going to try. All I want is to have 
 Miss Tyler see you and Budd together, laughing 
 and jolly, on pleasant, friendly terms, and then 
 to have you make her feel that you 're exercising 
 proprietary rights. Do you think you can?" 
 
 Virginia laughed again. 
 
 "I might make her feel that I was exercising 
 proprietary rights," she answered, "but do you 
 
THE BOOMERANG 165 
 
 think you could make Mr. Woodbridge laugh and 
 be jolly if she was around?" 
 
 "I '11 attend to that. All I 'm counting on you 
 for is the female ownership part. You 're really 
 too good for that kind of thing, but it must be in 
 the blood, because, after all, you 're a woman. 
 And of course you must n't appear in a nurse's uni- 
 form," he added. "I '11 fix that with Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge. I want you to doll up. I want you to be 
 as pretty as you can." 
 
 The girl colored and smiled. 
 
 "I '11 do my best," she said, "but you must n't 
 expect very much." 
 
 Jerry looked at her keenly. 
 
 "I don't know about that," he said. "It looks 
 to me as though you ought to do pretty well and 
 not have to break your neck trying." 
 
 Virginia dropped her eyes while the flush deep- 
 ened. 
 
 "So that 's all arranged," he went on. "Tues- 
 day night we '11 have a show-down and see what 
 we can do. The success of our anti-jealousy 
 serum depends on it. And remember," he added 
 in a gentler tone, "if we pull it off, the credit will 
 all be yours. When I think of it, the credit for 
 everything this office has done in the past month 
 
166 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 belongs to you. When you do fall in love and 
 marry and leave me, I want you to be very happy." 
 
 "I shall always stay here as long as you '11 let 
 me," she answered. 
 
 "No, you won't," he answered with a touch of 
 bitterness. "You '11 go, but if he is n't worthy of 
 you, he '11 have to settle with me. You 've put me 
 under very deep obligations, Virginia, and I want 
 you to know that I know it." It was the first time 
 that he had ever spoken to her by her first name. 
 He held out his hand. She let hers rest in it for a 
 moment and then, without meeting his eyes, turned 
 and left the room. 
 
 "No Preston De Witt for that girl," he muttered. 
 "There 's got to be a real man on the job or I '11 
 have something to say about it." 
 
PART IV 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AT nine-thirty Tuesday evening Budd's birth- 
 day appeared from every point of view to 
 have been a success. After his usual daily regime 
 there had been a birthday dinner with a lighted 
 cake out of which Virginia had drawn the thimble, 
 his mother the ring, and Budd the money. The 
 appropriateness of Fate in making these allotments 
 was sustained in Budd's case by the pleasant check 
 that a doting mother had bestowed upon him earlier 
 in the day. A month of careful living and rigor- 
 ous exercise had put him in the pink of condition 
 physically, and he seemed to be winning in his 
 efforts to banish Grace from his thoughts. Alto- 
 gether it was all very jolly and delightful at the 
 Woodbridges' that evening, and as is unusual with 
 surprise parties, Budd was entirely unsuspecting 
 of the entertainment that was about to burst upon 
 him. 
 
 After dinner the little family gathered in the 
 library for its usual evening program, Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge embroidering, Budd and Virginia playing 
 piquet. The cards seemed to be running amaz- 
 
 169 
 
170 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 ingly for Budd. As they played the last hand, 
 Virginia laughed in mock desperation and began 
 to add up the score. 
 
 "This is the seventh time in succession that 
 you 've beaten me, and I know I play the better 
 game." 
 
 The boy looked at her quizzically. 
 
 "You know, lucky at cards " 
 
 She raised a finger warningly. 
 
 "Now! now!" 
 
 "Oh, I 'm all right," he answered in an under- 
 tone. "I was thinking how lucky you must be 
 at" 
 
 She colored slightly. 
 
 "You 'd better think about something else," she 
 said lightly. 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge raised her eyebrows, but went 
 on with her needlework, giving no other sign that 
 she had overheard. 
 
 Budd smiled, yawned, and rose from his chair. 
 
 "I must have my go at the old punching-bag," 
 he observed. "I can't believe this is my last night 
 of training. I think I'm going to miss it. 
 Mother," he went on, "how would you propose 
 that your little son should break training wine, 
 woman, or song?" 
 
 Mrs. Woodbridge looked at him proudly. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 171 
 
 "I hope not by smoking cigarettes again," she 
 answered. "You 're so splendidly well that I want 
 you to keep so." 
 
 Budd shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 "It 's bad for a man to have as much health as 
 I have. It 's like not spending your money. I 've 
 got to do something wicked." 
 
 The grandfather's clock that struck the quarters 
 began to chime, indicating that it was a quarter 
 past nine. Mrs. Woodbridge and Virginia ex- 
 changed glances. 
 
 "Mr. Budd," said the latter, "it 's time for you 
 to punch the bag. You 're still under my orders." 
 
 Budd acknowledged her authority with an ex- 
 aggerated bow and lounged out of the room. As 
 they heard him whistling on his way up-stairs the 
 two women rose. 
 
 "You 'd better get dressed, Virgie," said Mrs. 
 Woodbridge. "I '11 get Hartley and the gardener 
 to get the rug up in the drawing-room and move the 
 furniture." She went to the electric button and 
 pressed it. 
 
 A moment later the butler appeared and fol- 
 lowed Mrs. Woodbridge toward the drawing-room. 
 As Virginia passed out into the hall on her way up- 
 stairs, she caught sight of an envelop standing on 
 edge against the wall under the hall table where 
 
172 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 letters were usually placed. She rescued it and 
 saw that it was addressed to Budd and unopened. 
 It had evidently slipped down behind the table, 
 blown by a draft of air or crowded off by the news- 
 papers. The note had obviously been delivered 
 by hand, as it bore no stamp. How long it had 
 lain on the floor was a question. She hesitated a 
 moment, then turned into the drawing-room. 
 
 "Hartley," she said, "I 've just found this note 
 for Mr. Budd on the floor under the table. Have 
 you any idea when it was delivered?" 
 
 The man looked at it in some concern. 
 
 "Why, that came this morning, Miss Xelva," he 
 answered, "while he was out for his walk. I laid 
 it on the table for him. I 'm very sorry." 
 
 "It's nobody's fault," she answered. "I'll 
 take it up to him in the gymnasium. She went up 
 to the third story. As she entered, the bag-puncher 
 suspended his exertions. 
 
 "Do you want to see a little exhibition?" he 
 asked, panting. 
 
 "Of course," she answered gaily ; "but here 's a 
 note that came for you this morning and slipped 
 down behind the table. I thought it might be 
 something important." 
 
 "Thanks," he said and came over and took it. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 173 
 
 As he glanced at the handwriting, a change came 
 over his face. 
 
 "It 's from " she began. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "Perhaps I ought n't to have given it to you," she 
 said doubtfully. 
 
 "What nonsense!" he exclaimed and tore it open. 
 Slowly he produced a card with a verse printed on 
 it, signed in ink with the initials G. T. 
 
 "A birthday card?" said Virginia. 
 
 Budd nodded and began to read: 
 
 "May joy and love 
 In your life ne'er cease, 
 But grow and grow 
 As your years increase." 
 
 "Joy and love," he repeated, and stood staring 
 at the bit of cardboard like a creature spellbound. 
 
 Virginia stretched out her hand. 
 
 "You 'd better let me take that," she said gently. 
 
 He made no opposition, and she took the card. 
 
 "Now let 's talk of something else," she went 
 on. "Suppose we have the exhibition with the 
 bag." 
 
 He seemed not to hear her. 
 
 "If I only could be sorry that she 's sent it," he 
 
174 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 murmured as if thinking aloud. "But 1 9 m not." 
 
 "It's only a printed birthday card," she said. 
 "It does n't amount to anything." 
 
 He sighed wearily. 
 
 "That 's right. Still, it was awfully sweet of her 
 when you think how I 've treated her. I ought to 
 acknowledge it, hadn't I?" 
 
 "The doctor will tell you about that," said Vir- 
 ginia, "just as he always does." 
 
 "That 's what I 'm afraid of." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Don't you know the replies he made me send 
 to the two letters she wrote me?" 
 
 "No ; you never showed them to me." 
 
 Budd went to his coat, which was hanging on the 
 back of a chair, and drew two worn envelops 
 from the breast pocket. 
 
 "Here," he said. 
 
 As Virginia read them, he gave a summary of 
 the answers that Jerry had dictated. 
 
 "It was pretty hard," she said sympathetically, 
 "but I 'm sure the doctor was right." 
 
 "I don't see why. I don't see what good it did 
 to write that kind of stuff to her. Every time I 
 hear from her it brings it all back again." He 
 put the birthday card with the letters, replaced 
 them in his pocket, and slipped on the coat. 
 
'Joy and love," he repeated 
 
THE BOOMERANG 175 
 
 Virginia watched him with a look of anxiety. 
 
 "You must try not to think about it," she said. 
 
 "Not think about it?" he repeated. He gazed 
 at her bitterly. "I guess you don't know what 
 love is," he said. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I do," she answered steadily. "Per- 
 haps better than you do." 
 
 He gave her a quick, wondering look. 
 
 "Well, if you do," he said, "I 'm sorry for you. 
 But I 'm through. This serum and exercise busi- 
 ness can't cure it. You think you 're getting bet- 
 ter, and then something happens like this birthday 
 card, and it 's all off again. There 's only one 
 thing to do." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Clear out, run away from it, and I 'm going 
 to do it. The month that I promised to take Dr. 
 Sumner's treatment is up to-morrow. The day 
 after I 'm off." 
 
 "But if you really love," she said simply, "could 
 you go away from the person you care for?" 
 
 "Is there anything else you can do when there 's 
 no hope of getting her?" 
 
 "There are lots of things we want, but can't have. 
 That 's no reason why we should run away from 
 them. And real love most of all." 
 
 "Would you feel that way if you were in love 
 
176 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 with a man who was n't in love with you?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "I think so," she answered steadily. "In fact 
 I know I should." 
 
 "I can't see it," said the boy. 
 
 "Why, just to be near the person you care for, 
 to hear his voice, to know he 's near, in the same 
 town with me, would give me a feeling of peace 
 and happiness something you can't describe, like 
 birds singing inside your heart. Can't you under- 
 stand that?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 "You 're beyond me. I can't feel as if any 
 birds were singing inside me. It 's a different 
 kind of feeling that I 've got. Have you ever 
 heard of people dying of thirst how they beg for 
 water and go mad thinking about it, how they 
 imagine they see it just beyond their reach and 
 stretch out their arms towards it and then find it 
 is n't there? Well, that 's the way it takes me." 
 
 "But it is there," she answered. "Love is a real 
 thing. It 's in all." 
 
 "Stop!" he said impatiently. "Suppose you 
 were dying of thirst. What would you think if 
 some one came to you with real water fresh, pure 
 water and said, 'Now you must n't drink this, but 
 just to have it near you ought to satisfy you, 
 
THE BOOMERANG 177 
 
 ought to give you a feeling like birds singing.' ' 
 
 "You should n't be thirsty," she answered. 
 "Love isn't wanting. It's giving; it's feeling; 
 it 's being ready to give everything, not demand- 
 ing everything." 
 
 He shook his head sadly. 
 
 "That 's all beyond me. All I know is that I 'in 
 thirsty, and the water is out of reach." 
 
 She let her hand rest gently on his shoulder. 
 
 "Perhaps it is n't out of reach," she suggested. 
 
 "Don't pull the hope stuff on me," he began. 
 "I know when I 'm beaten. I 'm off on Thurs- 
 day." 
 
 She was framing an answer, when the door 
 opened, and Jerry came in. He took one look at 
 Budd, then glanced at Virginia. 
 
 "What 's this," he demanded, "a funeral or a 
 bag-punching contest? What 's happened?" 
 
 "Mr. Woodbridge and I have been having a little 
 talk," Virginia began. 
 
 "I just got this," said Budd. He fished the 
 packet of letters from his pocket and handed the 
 birthday card to Jerry. 
 
 "Pretty, is n't it?" said Jerry, with his eyes on 
 the worn letters. "Those come with it?" 
 
 "No," said Budd. "Those are the letters that 
 came before. You 've seen them." 
 
178 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Better give 'em to me," Jerry said quietly. "I 
 was a fool to let you keep them." He took the 
 letters and the card, tore them across, and looked 
 around the room as if for a fireplace. Finding 
 none, he stuffed the pieces into his pocket. Then 
 he gazed searchingly at Budd. The boy dropped 
 his eyes. 
 
 "What shall I do about the card?" he asked in 
 a hollow voice. 
 
 "Nothing just now," said Jerry. "Get into your 
 evening clothes. Quick!" 
 
 "Evening clothes?" repeated Budd. 
 
 "Yes. You and I are going to have a little time 
 to-night. How long will it take you to dress?" 
 
 "Ten minutes." 
 
 "Make it nine and a half. I want to speak 
 to Miss Xelva." 
 
 "Are we going out?" Budd asked as he reached 
 the door. 
 
 "I '11 explain about that later," Jerry answered. 
 "Hustle!" 
 
 Budd disappeared, and Jerry turned to Virginia. 
 
 "Has he been that way long?" 
 
 "Since he got the birthday card a few minutes 
 ago. It seemed to bring on a relapse." 
 
 "It's too bad! I wanted to have him in good 
 
THE BOOMERANG 179 
 
 shape to-night," Jerry said regretfully. "What 
 are we going to do about it?" 
 
 "Perhaps I ought n't to have given it to him," 
 said Virginia. "But of course I did n't know what 
 it was till he opened it. I 'm sorry." 
 
 "It was n't your fault," he answered. He 
 looked at his watch. "The milk is spilled, and 
 there 's no time to cry about it. I '11 go down and 
 sit with him while he 's dressing. Perhaps I can 
 throw a little joy into him. But you 'd better get 
 dressed yourself. Marion and some of the people 
 are down-stairs. You remember what you prom- 
 ised to do?" 
 
 Virginia nodded. 
 
 "You '11 have to do it big, because in the state 
 he 's in now we '11 have to carry him. I mean 
 you '11 have to carry him. Whenever I get in a 
 tight place, you always seem to be made the goat." 
 
 "You know I am always glad to help," she 
 said. 
 
 "Well, just throw yourself into high speed to- 
 night," he went on. "You must be something of 
 an actress because you 're a woman. Play the 
 part to the limit. We 've got to get that girl going. 
 Put everything on but the kitchen stove. Make the 
 rest of the bunch look like last year's birds' nests. 
 
180 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Forget this nurse business. To-night you're the 
 queen of the fairies!" 
 
 Her eyes danced, and her color heightened as he 
 looked at her. 
 
 "By Jove, I believe you can do it!" he cried im- 
 pulsively. 
 
 She gave him a glance that he would have de- 
 scribed as the "side eye," laughed, and ran out of 
 the room. He heard her soft, quick footfall on 
 the stairs and followed more deliberately. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 AT the door of Budd's bedroom Jerry stopped 
 for further thought on the situation. He 
 felt that it was a time for heroic measures. A 
 housemaid passed through the hall. He beckoned 
 to her and gave her a whispered message. 
 
 "I '11 tell Mr. Hartley at once," she answered 
 and went on. As he was about to knock at Budd's 
 door he heard his name called in a conspirator's 
 whisper and, turning, saw Marion. She was out of 
 breath from running up-stairs. 
 
 "Grace has backed out," she said in an under- 
 tone. "I stopped for her, and she wouldn't 
 
 come." 
 
 "What 's the matter?" Jerry asked. 
 
 "She said she had a headache, but I don't think 
 that 's it. Have you and she been fighting?" 
 
 "Not enough to speak of," Jerry answered ab- 
 sently. He was thinking what was best to be done. 
 Of course if Grace did n't come, there was no 
 danger of Budd relapsing. On the other hand, if 
 Grace was piqued because Budd had taken no no- 
 tice of her birthday card, it was just the moment to 
 
 181 
 
182 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 bring off his coup. There had to be a show-down 
 some time, and despite the risk he decided on hav- 
 ing it at once. 
 
 "I '11 call her up," he said to Marion. "I think 
 there 's a telephone in the pantry that I can use. 
 You know the house better than I do. Lead me 
 down the back stairs." 
 
 A few moments later he was talking with Grace. 
 
 "Why this throw-down?" he demanded. "I 'm 
 crushed." 
 
 "Why, I wasn't feeling very well," came the 
 answer. "Mother thought I ought to go to bed." 
 
 "Describe your symptoms, and I '11 prescribe for 
 you," said Jerry. 
 
 The girl laughed. 
 
 "You can't put this over on me," he went on. 
 "My physician's trained ear tells me you 're per- 
 fectly well. It 's just low-down meanness. Here 
 I am in this scene of gaiety without a soul who 
 really understands me. If you don't come, I '11 
 probably do something desperate." 
 
 "Really, I can't come," she said, but with less 
 determination than before. 
 
 "Please," he went on plaintively. "I 'm not 
 exaggerating my troubles. Budd has cut me out 
 with the only other girl that looks promising, and 
 I 'm in the down-and-out class." He turned his 
 
THE BOOMERANG 183 
 
 face away from the instrument and chuckled at the 
 change in Grace's voice. 
 
 "Who is it?" she asked. 
 
 "I don't think you know her," he answered. 
 "She 's a stranger. But that 's neither here nor 
 there. I 'm counting on you. You promised to 
 teach me to trot, and this is my chance." 
 
 "Oh I can't," she said uncertainly. "I 'm not 
 dressed." 
 
 "That's not so," he answered, taking a blind 
 chance. "You 're all dressed and ready, and you 
 won't come just because you want to blight my 
 evening." 
 
 "You ought to go into mind-reading," she said, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Now look here," he said. "I '11 have a car at 
 the house for you in two minutes, and you come 
 right over." 
 
 "All right," was the answer. 
 
 "Now you 're talking like a sensible woman," he 
 said. "And, remember, I get the first waltz." 
 
 She answered, "Yes," and hung up. 
 
 Slipping out a side door, Jerry gave directions 
 to the family chauffeur and hurried back up-stairs 
 to Budd's room. He knocked sharply, and at 
 Budd's answering "Come in" he entered. 
 
 Instead of dressing, Budd was seated in a rock- 
 
184 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 ing-chair, gazing dully at the fireplace. He rose 
 as he saw Jerry and began slowly peeling off his 
 sweater. 
 
 "I thought I told you to hustle," said Jerry, 
 cheerfully. "You 're going on like a man who 
 does n't know he is alive." 
 
 "What's all this row about, anyway?" de- 
 manded Budd, unlacing one of his gymnasium 
 shoes. "I thought you did n't want me to go out 
 in the evening." 
 
 Before Jerry answered, there was a knock, and 
 Hartley came in with a tray on which stood a de- 
 canter of brandy, two glasses, ice, and soda. 
 
 Budd's eyes opened. 
 
 "Put it on the table," said Jerry. "I '11 pour 
 it!" 
 
 The butler went out, and Jerry began to pour. 
 
 "I thought it would be a good plan to open our 
 little celebration with a small drink," he explained 
 casually. 
 
 "But won't that interfere with the treatment?" 
 Budd began in amazement. 
 
 "It won't interfere with anything now," said 
 Jerry, calmly. "We 're through with your treat- 
 ment." 
 
 "You mean I 'm cured?" 
 
 "That 's the idea exactly. You 've done as I 've 
 
THE BOOMERANG 185 
 
 told you; the bugs have done their work. You 
 could n't be jealous again if you tried, and all 
 you 've got to do now is to cheer up and believe 
 it." 
 
 Budd grinned dolefully. 
 
 "It seems funny to have you spring this on me 
 just after that birthday card had sort of upset me 
 again." 
 
 "You 're not upset," said Jerry. "That 9 s just 
 imagination. Get some of this inside you, and 
 you '11 take a more healthy view of life." He held 
 out the glass, and Budd sipped a little with evident 
 distaste. 
 
 "Here 's luck!" said Jerry. "From this time on 
 you can smoke and drink in moderation, go back to 
 work, have all the fun you want, and see your 
 friends." 
 
 "See anybody I want?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 The boy's eyes brightened. 
 
 "Then the first thing I 'm going to do to-morrow 
 is to see Grace Tyler and tell her the truth about 
 these letters." 
 
 Jerry looked at him in dismay. 
 
 "In heaven's name what are you going to do that 
 for!" he exclaimed. 
 
 "Because I don't want to lie to her," the boy an- 
 
186 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 swered resolutely. "It 's troubled me a lot." 
 
 "But I thought you had given up hope of Miss 
 Tyler ever caring for you again." 
 
 "I have. That 's all over. But her opinion of 
 me matters just the same." 
 
 "Then you did n't mean what you said about 
 wishing her joy and not wanting to stand in her 
 way?" 
 
 "Yes, I did mean it, every word of it. Telling 
 her the truth does n't interfere with that." 
 
 "Of course it interferes with it. You won't be 
 acting as if you wished her joy if you tell her about 
 these letters." 
 
 "And why not?" demanded Budd. 
 
 "Why not? Don't you know the reason that I 
 made you answer them as I did?" 
 
 "I supposed you wanted me to offend her so she 
 would n't write to me again." 
 
 "Offend her!" cried Jerry. "Don't you see that 
 it was entirely for her sake? Don't you see that if 
 you let her know you 're going on suffering and 
 hopeless, loving her always, she can't help being 
 unhappy and miserable? How do you think a nice 
 girl like Grace would feel about it? Can't you 
 see that it 's bound to make her feel that she 's the 
 cause of wrecking your life?" 
 
 "She does n't think about that!" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 187 
 
 "Of course she does. She 's still worrying 
 about you. Her birthday card shows that. Now 
 if you really mean what you say and want to make 
 her happy, there 's just one thing to do the big 
 generous thing, the noble thing, the heroic thing!" 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 "Sacrifice your own feelings for her!" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Show her that she hasrit wrecked your life; 
 let her see that your jealousy is all gone, as it really 
 is; let her believe that your mournfulness is gone, 
 that your love is gone. That 's the thing to do." 
 
 Budd looked at him doubtfully. 
 
 "Take it from me, that 's the thing to do ! Make 
 her happy by showing her that you are happy." 
 
 "I think I see what you mean," said the boy, 
 slowly. 
 
 "That 's talking sense. I knew you would. 
 Now I '11 tell you something," Jerry went on. 
 "The reason why I asked you to get dressed is that 
 you 're going to have a little party to-night a 
 birthday party. Some of your guests are down- 
 stairs now." 
 
 "Who?" demanded Budd. 
 
 "Well, for one, there 's Grace Tyler." 
 
 "Grace?" the boy gasped. "Here?" 
 
 "Sure," said Jerry. "Why not?" 
 
188 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Budd made no answer. His eyes fell upon the 
 long drink on the table. He moved toward it, 
 seized it, and swallowed it. 
 
 "There 's nothing to be frightened about," said 
 Jerry. "Here 's your chance to do the big thing we 
 were talking about. Show her you 're happy. 
 Josh her, laugh, be merry!" 
 
 Budd shook his head, panic-stricken. 
 
 "I could n't. I don't know how." 
 
 "Of course you know how. Make a bluff 
 wear a smile look as if you were having a good 
 time even if it kills you. Are n't you willing to do 
 that much for her?" 
 
 "I'll try," said the boy. 
 
 x "That 's better," said Jerry. "Now this is the 
 plot. Slip a dressing-gown over your dinner- 
 jacket, come down into the library, and be doing 
 something when we come in. You see, you 've got 
 to be surprised. Do you get the idea?" 
 
 Budd nodded dumbly. 
 
 "What '11 I be doing?" 
 
 Jerry's eyes fell upon a pile of magazines. 
 
 "Here," he said, picking up the top one. 
 "Here's the 'Architectural Record.' You're 
 thinking of building a house out on your mother's 
 farm, and you 're studying up plans. That 's a 
 good touch," he added. "Be so busy with them 
 
THE BOOMERANG 189 
 
 that you don't see or hear anything till we 're all 
 in the room. You can have your back to the door. 
 Understand?" 
 
 "I think so," said Budd. He took a cigarette 
 from the case that Jerry handed him and lit it. 
 
 "Then we '11 all yell," Jerry went on, "and 
 you '11 jump up and be surprised and shake hands 
 with everybody but not with Grace," he added. 
 "Be cordial to her, but don't shake hands. You 
 see, it '11 be kinder to her not to. It will make her 
 realize that you 're trying to have things as she 
 wants them, just friends." 
 
 "But don't friends shake hands?" asked Budd. 
 
 "Yes; but not under these conditions. She'll 
 get what you mean, and in the crowd no one else 
 will notice it. Just act as if you 'd seen her every 
 day and you did n't have to take special notice of 
 her. That 's the way to make her really feel com- 
 fortable and at home." He started for the door, 
 but stopped before he reached it. "Now there 's 
 one thing more. Your mother has made a point 
 of having Miss Xelva as one of the guests. She 
 does n't know any of these other people; so make a 
 point of being nice to her very nice, won't you?" 
 
 "Why, of course," said Budd. "I get on with 
 Virginia almost as if she were my sister. Of 
 course I want her to have a good time." 
 
190 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "That 's the idea," said Jerry. "Only for this 
 evening you might try to forget you get on with 
 her like a sister. Imagine you were giving her a 
 sort of rush. We don't want people to realize that 
 she 's a trained nurse. Dance with her and take 
 her out on the veranda. Give her a time." 
 
 "It might sort of help to make it easier for 
 Grace," Budd suggested. 
 
 "That 's the idea exactly," cried Jerry, with en- 
 thusiasm. "If she would only believe that you 
 were having a good time with Virginia just think 
 of the load it would take off her mind. You don't 
 realize how it crushes a nice girl to feel that she 's 
 ruined a man's life." 
 
 "Well, I'll try," said Budd, doggedly. The 
 drink was beginning to quicken his circulation, and 
 his gloom showed signs of lightening. 
 
 "Then everything 's arranged," said Jerry. 
 "Hurry into your clothes, and I '11 go down and 
 arrange the surprise." 
 
 He closed the door behind him and mopped his 
 brow. The last half hour had been strenuous. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE great surprise scene conducted by Marion 
 went off successfully. No one seemed to 
 think it odd that Budd should sit immersed in the 
 "Architectural Record" with thirty giggling, tit- 
 tering young people tiptoeing and rustling into the 
 room within ten feet of him. And no one thought 
 it odd that when he slipped off his dressing-gown 
 he appeared in evening clothes. Life in moments 
 of excitement accepts things that would stagger the 
 probabilities of the stage. There was a great deal 
 of noise, hand-shaking, and congratulations, and 
 then the music suddenly struck up in the drawing- 
 room, and the dancers made a rush for the floor. 
 
 Jerry had had a word with Grace as she came in, 
 but then he became separated in the crowd. As 
 the party streamed into the ball-room, he fell be- 
 hind. As he reached the front hall it was empty. 
 A footfall on the stair made him turn. He saw a 
 slender girl descending. She was in an evening 
 gown of light blue, and wore a string of pearls 
 about her throat. Her slim, round arms were 
 bare. The mass of corn-colored hair wa twisted 
 
 191 
 
192 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 in a Greek knot and held with a clasp of pearls. 
 She seemed tall and carried herself like a grand 
 duchess. 
 
 Jerry gasped. The second look told him it was 
 Virginia, but Virginia so transformed that it needed 
 the glance of the mild, childlike eyes to make him 
 sure. 
 
 She smiled at his astonishment, which was so 
 evidently admiring, and her color deepened. 
 
 "Dr. Sumner, I believe," she said, laughing. 
 
 "Gosh!" he exclaimed, "you 've taken the wind 
 out of me, Virginia. I wouldn't have known 
 you." 
 
 "Am I aU right?" 
 
 "And then some," he answered. "How did you 
 do it?" 
 
 She looked at him, coloring. 
 
 "Do it?" she repeated. 
 
 "Why, my child," he exclaimed, "you 're won- 
 derful! You're glorious! !Why haven't I ever 
 realized it?" 
 
 "That 's hardly for me to say," she answered, 
 laughing. "I would n't have thought that a change 
 of gowns could make a difference to a serious per- 
 son like you." 
 
 "I guess it 's a case of nobody home," he an- 
 swered, tapping his head. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 193 
 
 "Well, here I am as a vampire," she said. 
 "How shall I go to work? You know I don't know 
 any of these people." 
 
 "I '11 have to be driving the whole man bunch 
 off with a club in about two minutes," he answered. 
 "We 'd better get down to business before you go 
 on exhibition." As he spoke he saw a young man 
 stop Budd, who was waltzing with Gertrude Lud- 
 low, and dance away with her. Budd came on 
 around the room to the doorway into the hall, and 
 Jerry seized him. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "here 's a chance for 
 you to get a turn with Virginia while I hunt up 
 some young men to introduce to her. Bring her 
 back here when the music stops." 
 
 Budd cast an admiring look at his former keeper. 
 
 "My, but you're some queen!" he exclaimed. 
 "I never saw you dolled up like this." 
 
 Virginia laughed. 
 
 "I never liked to believe it, but I guess it 's true 
 that clothes make the woman," she said. "Come 
 along and dance." 
 
 Jerry watched them start off. Virginia waltzed 
 in what for present-day America was a somewhat 
 old-fashioned manner, holding herself with a 
 stately erecmess and moving with a free, gliding 
 motion. 
 
194 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "She certainly can dance," Jerry muttered under 
 his breath. Then something strange began to hap- 
 pen to him. His breath began to come short and 
 quick. Some invisible, intangible force clutched 
 at his throat. His pulses throbbed. His eyes fol- 
 lowed the girl, fascinated, unable to look away. 
 
 "By the Lord!" he gasped. He stood dazed and 
 vibrating. 
 
 He was roused from this amazing state by Grace 
 and George Cartwright, who had stopped dancing 
 and were headed toward the library. 
 
 "Oh, here 's where you 're hiding!" cried the 
 girl. "This is the way you keep your engage- 
 ments!" 
 
 "I was just waiting for you," he answered 
 quickly. "I was afraid to cut in. You don't 
 understand how a timid man feels at a ball." 
 
 She laughed ironically, and they swept out upon 
 the floor. Half-way around the room he felt her 
 start and grow rigid. 
 
 "Who is that girl in blue?" she asked a moment 
 later. "I don't think I ever saw her before." 
 
 "The one over there dancing with the Parker 
 boy?" he answered. 
 
 "That's Carrie Frothingham," she said impa- 
 tiently. "The one with the pearls and the light 
 hair." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 195 
 
 He pretended to look about the room. 
 
 "Oh," he said, "you mean the girl dancing with 
 Budd? That's " But before he could finish, 
 a "Hello, Grace!" sounded in his ears. A hand 
 was laid on his arm, and Mr. Montgomery Chap- 
 man halted them. "Can't I have just a little bit of 
 this?" he pleaded. 
 
 "I'd much rather not," said Grace, candidly; 
 but the next moment she was swept away. "The 
 next," she called back to Jerry, and he nodded. 
 
 He watched her till she was lost in the crowd. 
 He saw that her eyes were following Virginia and 
 Budd. 
 
 "It 's beginning all right," he said to himself. 
 Then his eyes, too, hunted out Virginia and her 
 partner. He assured himself that Budd wore a 
 real smile and seemed generally to be enjoying 
 himself, and then Budd seemed to vanish, and all 
 that Jerry saw was the slim, stately, radiant figure 
 moving rythmically to the waltz music. 
 
 Five minutes later he found himself in the hall 
 with Virginia again. The music had stopped, but 
 almost immediately had started a lively rag-time to 
 which the dancers were doing the fox-trot. Just as 
 it began, Budd made a dive into the throng and 
 emerged with Grace Tyler. It was the dance that 
 had been promised to Jerry, but he decided that 
 
196 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 his failure to turn up would not be charged against 
 him. Anyway, he did not care. 
 
 "I don't do this thing," he said to Virginia. 
 "Let 's go around to the veranda." 
 
 "I don't do it very well myself," she answered 
 and followed him. The veranda running around 
 two sides of the house was furnished with easy- 
 chairs and divans and dimly lighted by the French 
 windows of the ball-room. One could watch the 
 dancers from the shadow without being seen. 
 
 "Look!" said Jerry. "They're dancing to- 
 gether." 
 
 Virginia looked. 
 
 "Is that Miss Tyler? You know, I've never seen 
 her." 
 
 "That 's your rival," he answered. "But lock 
 at the boy, laughing, wearing a grin that would 
 take in a pie. There 's nothing love-sick about 
 that! Gad, he 's a wonder! If he can keep that 
 up, it 's a cinch! I only hope the brandy and soda 
 does n't die in him." 
 
 "You don't mean to say you gave him brandy 
 and soda?" 
 
 "I sure did," he answered. 
 
 "I suppose it is all right since you believe it 's 
 all a game," she observed thoughtfully. "Did you 
 tell him to dance with her, too?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 197 
 
 Suddenly the thing that had happened to Jerry 
 in the hall came upon him again. His head began 
 to swim. His breath behaved oddly. He stood 
 gazing at the girl beside him, unable to speak, un- 
 aware of what was going on about him. 
 
 "What was that?" he said thickly. "What did 
 you say?" 
 
 She glanced at him a little perplexed. 
 
 "I asked you if you made him dance with her?" 
 
 With an effort Jerry pulled himself together, and 
 the thing seemed to pass off, though his knees felt 
 weak. 
 
 "I did n't have to," he answered. 
 
 "She 's trying to talk to him," observed Virginia. 
 
 "That 's right," said Jerry. "She '11 be steering 
 him for a dark corner next. You see! We 've got 
 that young lady going, and when we play our 
 trump-card " He broke off as Virginia touched 
 his arm. 
 
 "Look!" she exclaimed. "They've stopped. 
 She 's limping. She 's sprained her ankle. The 
 poor child!" 
 
 "It 's a bluff," said Jerry, unfeelingly. "What 
 did I tell you? She 's steering him for the ver- 
 anda. What do you think of the love game now?" 
 he demanded. There was an earnestness in his 
 own tone that startled him. It was as if he was on 
 
198 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 the defensive himself, as if his reason was fighting 
 against that strange, unreasonable emotion that 
 twice in the last half hour had swept him. 
 
 "We 'd better get out of here," she answered, "or 
 we '11 be caught." 
 
 He acquiesced, and led the way around the ver- 
 anda toward the front door. 
 
 Leaning heavily on Budd's arm, Grace stepped 
 out into the dark and groped her way to the divan 
 from which Jerry and Virginia had been watching 
 the ball-room. 
 
 "I 'm afraid it hurts frightfully," said the boy. 
 
 "No; it isn't really anything," she answered 
 bravely. "It '11 be gone in a minute. I wrenched 
 it the other day, and the least little thing brings it 
 back. When those people bumped into us it just 
 snapped over." 
 
 "There is n't anything so painful," said Budd, 
 anxiously. He helped her arrange herself on the 
 cushions. "Had n't I better get Dr. Sumner?" 
 
 "Oh, no, please don't!" she cried in alarm. 
 
 "But it may be serious." 
 
 "No," she insisted heroically. "Just let me sit 
 here and you go and dance. I 'm not going to 
 spoil your evening." 
 
 "But I don't want to," he protested. "You don't 
 mind if I stay, do you?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 199 
 
 "Of course I don't mind," she answered, "only 
 I 'd feel happier if I thought you were enjoying 
 yourself. I don't think it 's badly swollen." She 
 lifted her foot and began to rub her silk-clad ankle. 
 "Can you feel the swelling?" she asked presently. 
 
 Budd timorously put forth two fingers and 
 touched it. 
 
 "Perhaps I 'd better turn up the lights," he sug- 
 gested. "I could see better." 
 
 "Oh, no!" she said. "It's pleasanter as it is, 
 don't you think so?" 
 
 "Yes; I think so," he answered. "But your 
 ankle" 
 
 "Well, the light can't help my ankle, can it?" 
 She laughed her rippling, silvery laugh. "As 
 long as I 'm in this position, it 's really stopped 
 hurting. Anyway, I believe in Christian Science 
 about things like this. If you don't think about 
 them, you don't feel 'em. Don't you think so?" 
 
 "I suppose that 's so," said Budd, doubtfully. 
 "But I think you 've been awfully brave about 
 
 it." 
 
 "Nonsense!" she answered. "I'm the biggest 
 coward that ever lived. But let *s forget the ankle. 
 What were we talking about?" 
 
 "Before you hurt your ankle?" 
 
 "Yes, when we were dancing. I remember now. 
 
200 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 You were going to tell me what had been keeping 
 you so fearfully busy this last month." 
 
 Budd said nothing. A sudden realization burst 
 on him of what Dr. Sumner would think. 
 
 "I 'm waiting," said Grace, sweetly. "What- 
 ever it was, it certainly agreed with you. I don't 
 think I 've ever seen you looking so well." 
 
 "That 's what I always think about you," said 
 Budd. The fact that it was an evasion did not take 
 away from its evident sincerity. "Every time I see 
 you, you always look more beautiful than you ever 
 did before." 
 
 "Why, Budd," Grace exclaimed, "you certainly 
 have changed a lot. You deserve a flower for 
 that." She pulled a rose from the cluster in her 
 belt and, bending forward, put it in his buttonhole. 
 He felt her hair brush against his face; its subtle 
 fragrance thrilled him. He felt the spell of her 
 beauty fastening upon him. With an effort he 
 drew back. He seemed to see the doctor's warning 
 finger raised at him. 
 
 "Thank you," he said in a hollow voice. Then 
 a wave of contempt and indignation with himself 
 for his weakness swept over him. He knew that 
 Jerry was right. If he wanted to do the heroic, 
 generous thing and cease from troubling her with 
 love-making, he must be firm. If he should seem 
 
"Why, Budd," Grace exclaimed, "you certainly have 
 changed a lot" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 201 
 
 to be brutal, it was for her own good. This was the 
 moment for a decision. 
 
 "Well?" she said softly. "I 'm waiting to hear 
 all about it." 
 
 "I can't tell you," he said huskily. "I 'm sorry, 
 but I can't." 
 
 "Can't?" she repeated. "Why, Budd, I don't 
 understand. Are n't we still friends?" 
 
 "Why, of course." 
 
 "Then why can't you tell me what 's happened? 
 Why have you kept away from me all this time? 
 You don't know how it 's worried me." 
 
 "Worried you? Why?" 
 
 "For fear that it was on account of something 
 that I had done," she answered. "You may not 
 believe me, but I 've never done anything to hurt 
 your feelings not intentionally. I would n't for 
 the world, and the thought of it has made me per- 
 fectly miserable." 
 
 Budd sat amazed and speechless. It was all as 
 Jerry had told him it would be. Instead of being 
 outraged at his treatment of her letters, here she 
 was apologizing for something she was afraid she 
 might have done actually worried and anxious 
 about him. Jerry unquestionably was right. 
 This was the way a good woman felt responsibility 
 for the man whose life she had wrecked, yet never 
 
202 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 could love. If there was a spark of manhood in 
 him, he must play his part and make her believe 
 that she had not crushed him. Jerry had told him 
 to laugh and be jolly, to put her at her ease with 
 the casual offhand manner of Platonic friendship. 
 
 He forced a dismal laugh and rose from the 
 divan. 
 
 "Now don't you ever be miserable about me," he 
 began, "or worry either." He laughed again with 
 an imbecile loudness. "I 'm a changed man, I am. 
 I 'm not the same any more. Everything is just 
 exactly as it should be. I mean I 'm all over it. 
 My ridiculous jealousy has all gone, my mournful- 
 ness has all gone." He gave another empty laugh. 
 "My love has all gone. You don't have to worry 
 any more." 
 
 The darkness hid Grace's face. She listened, 
 frozen with amazement. 
 
 "But, Budd," she gasped, "you mean we are n't 
 friends?" 
 
 "Why, of course, friends," he answered. 
 "Is n't it great that it 's all turned out so well?" 
 He giggled nervously. 
 
 Grace made no answer. Just then Freddie 
 Parker came through the French window from the 
 ball-room and stood peering into the darkness. 
 
 "Hello !" he called. "I thought I 'd find you out 
 
THE BOOMERANG 203 
 
 here. Give me some of this next dance, will you?" 
 
 "She 's turned her ankle," said Budd. He rose 
 and moved away down the veranda. He had been 
 as noble as he could be in one evening. He felt 
 that he could n't bear any more of it. There was 
 a lump in his throat that ached. As he lit a ciga- 
 rette his hand shook. He took a few puffs. It 
 tasted bitter, and he threw it out upon the lawn. 
 As he turned into the house, Jerry, who was stand- 
 ing in the hall, saw him and beckoned to him. 
 
 "Well," he said, "how is it going? Are you be- 
 having yourself?" 
 
 "I don't think she '11 worry about me any more^' 
 Budd said dismally. "I 've told her not to that 
 I was all over it." 
 
 "And what did she say?" 
 
 "She did n't say anything," Budd answered. 
 "She sprained her ankle. I left her with Freddie 
 Parker out on the veranda." 
 
 Jerry seized his hand and gripped it. 
 
 "My son, you 're going strong," he said. "All 
 you 've got to do is to keep it up. Virginia is in 
 there dancing with a red-headed boy. Fly at it and 
 give her a good time. And say," he added, in- 
 specting him carefully, "you might have just one 
 more little drink. It 's a bad thing as a rule, but 
 in emergencies like this it might be justifiable. It 
 
204 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 helps one to be jolly in a more graceful and natural 
 
 manner." 
 
 "All right," said Budd, "but I 'm worried about 
 her ankle." 
 
 "Don't!" said Jerry. "I '11 attend to that." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A FEW moments later Jerry made his way 
 around the veranda to the corner where 
 Grace was sitting with young Parker. Evidently 
 the conversation had not been going easily, for the 
 young man rose as Jerry came up and went back to 
 the ball-room. 
 
 "May I sit down and visit?" he asked. 
 
 "It would be very nice," she answered. 
 
 Jerry caught the subdued note in her voice and 
 chuckled. 
 
 "Budd told me that you 'd sprained your ankle," 
 he said. "I thought I 'd come and see if I could be 
 of any use." 
 
 "It 's nothing," she answered. 
 
 "A sprained ankle is a good deal," he said. 
 "Which one is it?" 
 
 "Why, this one, the right," she answered. 
 
 "Let me see it." 
 
 She stretched out her right foot, and Jerry, 
 bending forward, took it. He ran his fingers over 
 the ankle, felt it, and flexed it. 
 
 "Does that hurt?" 
 
 205 
 
206 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "A little, but not much. I think I just turned 
 it. It 's much, much better." 
 
 "I don't think there 's anything serious the mat- 
 ter with it," he observed, straightening up. "You 
 might put it in hot water when you go to bed and 
 put a compress on it. But as long as it 's com- 
 fortable now that 's the main thing." The injured 
 ankle was, as he had suspected, imaginary. By 
 this time Budd and Virginia should have been 
 dancing, and he wanted Grace to get the full effect 
 of it. 
 
 "I wish I could do the things that some of those 
 boys are doing in there," he observed. "Look at 
 Gertrude Ludlow's brother!" 
 
 "He 's very good," Grace answered, "but you 
 could learn if you 'd take a few lessons." 
 
 Just then Virginia floated by the window with 
 Budd. There was a silence; then Grace said in a 
 constrained voice: 
 
 "What a pretty girl Miss Xelva is, and so smart!" 
 
 "Isn't she?" he answered. "And so nice, too. 
 I see you found out her name." 
 
 Grace nodded. 
 
 "She looks very nice. Is she a friend of 
 yours?" 
 
 "Oh, in a way I know her. Have n't you ever 
 seen her before?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 207 
 
 "No." 
 
 "That 's funny." 
 
 "Why? Has she been in town long?" 
 
 "Oh, a month or so." 
 
 "A month?" 
 
 "Just about, I should say." 
 
 "Stopping with friends?" 
 
 "Don't you know where she 's stopping?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why, here. She 's been visiting Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge." 
 
 Grace started. 
 
 "Ankle hurt?" he asked. 
 
 "Just a little. I gave it a twist." Her voice had 
 grown more strained. 
 
 "It's funny you haven't met her. You must 
 have heard of her." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I thought everybody had been talking about 
 that." 
 
 "That?" she repeated. 
 
 "About her and Budd. They 've been together 
 ever since she came. Looks to me like a desperate 
 case on both sides. Of course I don't know any- 
 thing about it, but having eyes, I 'm expecting an 
 announcement any day. I thought perhaps to- 
 
208 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 night they 'd spring it on us, seeing that it was his 
 birthday." 
 
 "I see," said Grace in a voice that was scarcely 
 audible. 
 
 "It would be nice, don't you think?" he went on. 
 "Budd has plenty of money, and she 's delightful. 
 Then Mrs. Woodbridge is devoted to her, and that 
 means something even in these days." 
 
 A weak "Yes, it would be very nice" came from 
 the darkness beside him. 
 
 A wave of pity swept over Jerry. The girl was 
 suffering. There was no doubt that she cared for 
 Budd. For a moment he thought of throwing off 
 the mask and telling her the truth, but his better 
 judgment held him back. He must be merciless 
 and play the game out, or all his work would go for 
 nothing. He knew Grace well enough to be confi- 
 dent that she would fight to the end and that since 
 she believed Budd to be in love with Virginia, she 
 would do everything in her power to get him back. 
 All that he had to do was to keep Budd in check 
 and let events take their course. The game was 
 all over but the shouting, and Jerry was not with- 
 out a certain complacent self-satisfaction over the 
 success with which he had worked it out. 
 
 Another thought also came to him as he sat there 
 in the dark beside his writhing victim. At the out- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 209 
 
 set the conception of love as a game of tactics and 
 counter-tactics had been invented for Budd's bene- 
 fit rather than evolved from his own matured con- 
 victions on the subject. Now as the facts seemed 
 to bear out his proposition, he experienced a sense 
 of somewhat bitter disillusionment. What he had 
 formulated with half -humorous cynicism for a ben- 
 evolent end was, after all, the truth. It was a 
 sorry business, but one had to face the facts. He 
 registered a vow of gratitude that he had always 
 been wise enough to escape the fatal and humil- 
 iating pangs of jealousy. As the silence length- 
 ened, he knew that he had to say something. The 
 music had stopped, and a waltz began again. 
 
 "Do you think your ankle could stand a turn 
 of this?" he asked. "You know it sometimes 
 helps a sprain to exercise on it." 
 
 "I don't think I could," she answered huskily. 
 "I really think I ought to go home. Somehow it 's 
 made my head ache." 
 
 "I 'm awfully sorry," he said. "Do you want 
 me to find your motor for you?" 
 
 "I 'm afraid it is n't here," she answered. "I 
 did n't order it to come for me. If you 'd be good 
 enough to telephone " 
 
 "But I '11 run you home if you are really going." 
 
 "You 're very good, but, you see, Preston was 
 
210 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 going to stop for me about half past eleven. Will 
 you telephone him that I 'm ready to go now? 
 Just say that I 've asked you to ask him to come 
 for me right away in his runabout." 
 
 "Of course," said Jerry. "You '11 wait here?" 
 She nodded, and he started for the telephone r 
 "So she 's going to play Preston again," he 
 thought; "had him up her sleeve in case of accident. 
 Some head that girl has." As he reached the front 
 door and was about to enter the house, an impulse 
 led him to stop and glance at the line of automo- 
 biles drawn up along the curb. The fifth car was 
 the Tylers' limousine with the family chauffeur 
 sleeping peacefully at the wheel. He chuckled. 
 "She *s certainly a quick actor," he thought. He 
 turned into the house and called up De Witt's 
 apartment. The servant told him that Preston had 
 gone to New York that morning and had not re- 
 turned. He smiled and made his way to the li- 
 brary. Here he lighted a cigarette and began to 
 figure out the next move. The cards were running 
 against Grace. The question was how to play 
 them. He knew that Budd's new-found independ- 
 ence was not to be relied upon. If Grace started 
 a vigorous counter-offensive with De Witt, it would 
 wilt like a plucked wild rose, and they would be 
 back where they were at the beginning. Without 
 
THE BOOMERANG 211 
 
 delay he must get Budd and Grace together, and 
 let her make her effort to win him back instead of 
 reducing him by the indirect fire of his old jealousy. 
 She was evidently deeply in love with him. She 
 was masterful and fearless. If she felt that she 
 had an even chance, Jerry believed that she would 
 not balk at doing the proposing herself. Her les- 
 son had been a severe one and would not have to be 
 repeated. The thing to do, therefore, was to send 
 Budd back to her with instructions to be friendly 
 and kind, dropping the suggestion also that pos- 
 sibly in years to come, if he kept himself in hand 
 and made no demands, she might grow to care for 
 him again. 
 
 As he flicked away the ashes of his cigarette, the 
 part that Preston had played in this triangular 
 comedy passed through his mind. It was clear 
 now that Grace had never cared for him. He had 
 amused her, and she had used him to torment Budd 
 and protect herself from his distasteful assump- 
 tions of proprietorship. It was also probable that 
 Preston had had no misconception of the situation. 
 He was much too clear-headed to be taken in. If, 
 then, he knew that he had no chance with Grace, it 
 was the more possible that he was seriously inter- 
 ested in Virginia. The circumstance that she was 
 apparently Mrs. Woodbridge's guest might well be 
 
212 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 construed as indicating that she was far from pen- 
 niless. Dressed as she was that night, she might 
 have been the daughter of anybody great and im- 
 portant and in herself she was certainly a sensa- 
 tion. He wondered why he had never realized it 
 before. But that had nothing to do with the mat- 
 ter in hand. 
 
 If Preston was really in love with her, it was an 
 outrageous and impossible thing. He was un- 
 worthy to be her door-mat, and it was inconceivable 
 that she could think seriously of him. Yet it was 
 not uncommon for girls like that to throw them- 
 selves away on just such men as Preston. 
 
 He ground the lighted end of the cigarette into 
 the ash-tray as if it had been Preston's head. As 
 soon as he got Budd off his mind he would take a 
 hand in the matter. However, Budd's case must 
 be attended to first. Jerry rose and started to hunt 
 for his patient. 
 
 Now the patient, having accomplished three 
 turns of the room with Virginia, was intercepted 
 by the red-headed boy, who had fallen a sudden 
 and complete victim. Without a partner, he 
 stepped back out of the way of the dancing. There 
 were two things that presented themselves as next 
 on the evening's program. First, he might take 
 that drink that the doctor had prescribed. Sec- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 213 
 
 ond, he ought to dance successively with his female 
 guests. However, the evening was still young. 
 There was plenty of time for dancing. As for the 
 drink, he did n't want it. The scene with Grace 
 in which he had displayed so much nobility and 
 resolution was already troubling him. He had 
 honestly tried to put the mind of a conscientious 
 and anxious woman at rest, but he was aware that 
 he had not wholly concealed his anguish, that un- 
 doubted traces of bitterness had flavored his ut- 
 terances on the subject of his being a changed man. 
 The more he thought about it, the clearer it became 
 to him that he had bungled as usual. A nice girl 
 who has wrecked a man's life can only be more 
 troubled when she sees her victim trying earnestly, 
 but vainly, to conceal his suffering. He decided, 
 therefore, to go to her again and put things to 
 rights. How he was to do it was not clear, but he 
 felt that he ought to try. 
 
 Just about the time that Jerry was telephoning 
 Preston's house, Budd slipped out of the ball-room 
 window. As his eyes became accustomed to the 
 darkness, he made out a dim form on the divan. 
 He advanced cautiously, making sure that no one 
 was beside her. Within a few feet of her he 
 stopped. He could distinguish the outline of her 
 body reclining against the cushions, but apparently 
 
214 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 it was "without a face. This unusual circumstance 
 occupied him for only a moment. Then strange 
 little sounds arrested his attention. They came, 
 muffled and irregular, from the region where, in 
 the natural course of things, the face should have 
 been. 
 
 Budd's first thought was that the sounds were 
 laughter stifled with a handkerchief or a cushion. 
 Grace had some joke that amused her beyond en- 
 durance. He could see dimly that her body shook 
 in little spasms as in a series of uncontrollable 
 chuckles. He drew back a step. He was in no 
 mood for that kind of thing. Then his ears caught 
 a note that made him start. It was not laughter. 
 He stood frozen with apprehension and horror. 
 Grace was weeping sobbing her heart out, with 
 her face buried in a sofa pillow. Only one thing 
 could be the cause of it. His effort to be noble and 
 set her mind at rest about him had failed more 
 calamitously than he could have imagined. 
 
 With breath coming quickly, Budd moved noise- 
 lessly to the divan. 
 
 "Grace," he whispered. 
 
 The girl looked up apprehensively, saw who it 
 was, and buried her face deeper in the pillow. 
 
 Calling her name again, he bent over her. She 
 had never seemed so beautiful. Pity and love 
 
THE BOOMERANG 215 
 
 swelled in him. Yielding to an overwhelming im- 
 pulse to fold her to his heart and comfort her, he 
 laid his hand upon her arm and bent down. She 
 turned to shake off his hand. Her face met his, 
 and the next moment he had kissed her fairly on the 
 mouth. 
 
 She gave a little cry and struggled to push him 
 away; but Budd, beside himself, clasped her 
 fiercely, kissing her cheek and hair. 
 
 In an instant she tore herself free and stood be- 
 fore him, speechless and white with anger. 
 
 "You cad!" she gasped. "You- Then 
 bursting into a fresh outbreak of sobbing, she ran 
 along the veranda. 
 
 Budd, stupefied with horror, stood and watched 
 her. As she disappeared around the corner of the 
 house, some command of his senses returned to 
 him, and he followed. He reached the front steps 
 in time to see her pass through the gate and turn 
 down the line of waiting motors. A moment later 
 he heard the snap of an automobile door. Then 
 an engine started, and the Tylers' limousine began 
 to move down the street. He was still watching the 
 red tail-light when Jerry's voice brought him back 
 to earth. 
 
 "I was just looking for you," said Jerry. 
 "Where's Grace?" 
 
216 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "She 's gone," Budd answered in a hollow voice. 
 
 "Gone?" 
 
 "She just drove off in her motor." Without 
 saying anything more, he went down the steps to- 
 ward the street and, hatless as he was, hurried off 
 aimlessly in the opposite direction to that which the 
 motor had taken. 
 
 Jerry's first impulse had been to call after him, 
 but he checked it. What he thought had happened 
 was this: Grace had suddenly remembered that 
 Preston was out of town and that she was getting in 
 deeper by asking Jerry to telephone him. There- 
 fore she had suddenly decided to escape in her 
 own car, which she knew was waiting, and reserve 
 the opening of her campaign till later. There was 
 nothing to be done about it. After all, the main 
 thing had been accomplished, to make Grace be- 
 lieve that Miss Xelva had captured Budd, and to 
 keep Budd from giving the truth away. Loose on 
 the streets, the boy could get into no trouble, love- 
 sick as he might be, as long as Grace was safely at 
 home, nursing her own wounded sensibilities. 
 Jerry, therefore, turned back into the house, re- 
 solved to get a bite of supper and go home. Taken 
 as a whole, he felt that the surprise party had ac- 
 complished much that he had hoped for. A man 
 
THE BOOMERANG 217 
 
 cannot expect everything to come out according to 
 schedule. He lit a fresh cigarette and, with the 
 glow of satisfaction that comes from hard-won vic- 
 tory, turned back into the house. 
 
 Opening off from the library was a small room 
 with an outdoor entrance that the late Mr. Wood- 
 bridge had used as an office and den. Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge used it on occasions to interview servants 
 and receive business callers, but for the most part 
 it remained unoccupied, and the door leading to 
 the library was invariably kept shut. As Jerry 
 passed the library, on his way to the dining-room, 
 he happened to glance in. In the corner near the 
 office door Virginia was sitting on the arm of an 
 easy-chair, her back toward him. The lamplight 
 fell on her hair, making an aureole like a saint's 
 about her little head. Jerry stopped. The thing 
 that twice before that evening had attacked him 
 came back again. He made no effort to combat 
 it. Despite anything his brain might tell him, 
 every drop of his blood, every fiber in his body, 
 cried out that the slim girl before him was the end 
 and object of existence. If that was love, then 
 love had him fast, and he knew that it was nothing 
 else. At last the great adventure had overtaken 
 him. There was no doubt to be argued with, no 
 
218 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 question as to whether the thing was some transitory 
 gust of passion. The uttermost depths of his na- 
 ture answered hers. 
 
 Despite the emotion that set his pulses throbbing, 
 his mind worked quickly. He would go forward 
 then and there and confront her with the whirlwind 
 in his soul, confident that she would respond, know- 
 ing that she must, certain that the fire that she had 
 kindled in him must be burning in her also. 
 
 Precisely at that moment the office door opened, 
 Mrs. Woodbridge appeared and beckoned to Vir- 
 ginia. The girl rose and passed into the little 
 room. The door closed, but apparently caught 
 her dress, for it quickly opened again, and Jerry 
 saw Preston De Witt standing in the doorway. A 
 moment later Mrs. Woodbridge emerged with the 
 satisfied smile of the woman who believes she has 
 been acting as confidential agent for the angel of 
 fate. 
 
 Jerry wheeled as if under a blow, and passed 
 down the hall. The band was crashing out a rag- 
 time with drums and cymbals. The dancers were 
 gliding and whirling. The lights blazed. Dazed 
 and unaware of it all, he reached the door and 
 plunged out into the night. Which way he turned 
 as he reached the street he did not know, but walked 
 blindly on through the dim, tree-arched streets. 
 
The thing that had twice before that evening attacked him 
 came back again 
 
THE BOOMERANG 219 
 
 At some corner that he rounded ten minutes later 
 he came upon Budd. They passed in the darkness 
 without speaking. Suddenly Jerry caught himself 
 up, looked back, and put his hand to his head. 
 He, too, was hatless. He straightened himself, 
 threw back his shoulders, and laughed. His 
 laughter was loud and ringing, but there was little 
 mirth in it. A lone policeman started and looked 
 at him suspiciously. Then he went on and, turn- 
 ing into Elm Street, made his way home. 
 
PART V 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE next morning Jerry appeared at the family 
 breakfast-table outwardly much as usual, but 
 only outwardly. He was grateful that Marion had 
 not put in an appearance. The colonel was going 
 through his letters and took no notice of him. 
 Suddenly his father's face lighted. 
 
 "Well, this is amazing!" he exclaimed. 
 "Here 's your hospital, my boy! Fallen from the 
 sky! A million to start with! More if you need 
 it!" He brandished the letter excitedly. 
 
 Jerry gazed at him dully. 
 
 "Who is it?" he asked. 
 
 "Bruce Gordon," the colonel answered. "He 
 wants to give the town a memorial to his mother. 
 The last time I was in New York I told him about 
 the way you 'd taken hold, and now he wants to put 
 this matter in your hands." 
 
 "It 's very good of him," Jerry said quietly. 
 
 "You don't seem to be very enthusiastic," said 
 the colonel, with a note of disappointment in his 
 voice. "I thought it would please you." 
 
 "It 's great, of course," Jerry answered. "I 've 
 
 223 
 
224 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 got some work that 's on my mind just at present. 
 We '11 talk about it later." He rose, leaving his 
 eggs untasted, and went to the office. As he entered 
 he started apprehensively. He had forgotten that 
 Virginia would be there. Then he cursed himself. 
 Of course he would have to meet Virginia. Why 
 in heaven's name should n't he? If she chose to 
 be interested in another man, was that an excuse 
 for him to behave like an idiot, like Budd? The 
 bell lay on the desk within reach of his hand. A 
 touch of his finger, and she would be in the room. 
 He would show himself that he was not in Budd's 
 class yet not by a jugful. He had undergone a 
 disturbing experience, but it was past, and he was 
 himself again. Besides, Virginia was not yet mar- 
 ried to Preston, and a great deal might happen be- 
 fore she was. 
 
 However, instead of pressing the button, he 
 lighted a cigarette, took one puff, and flung it to- 
 ward the fireplace. Then in a fit of indignation 
 with himself he rang violently. Almost instantly 
 the door opened, and Emile entered. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" demanded Jerry. 
 "Where 's Miss Xelva?" 
 
 "She telephone she be late this morning," the 
 man answered. 
 
 "Is she ill?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 225 
 
 "She say some one come to see her, but she be 
 here by office hours," Emile answered. "Mr. 
 Woodbridge want to see you," he went on. "He 
 been out here twenty minute', walk up and down, 
 up and down, very restless." 
 
 "Show him in," commanded Jerry. He began 
 to feel better. The absurdity of Budd's troubles 
 helped him to realize the absurdity of his own. 
 
 "Hello!" he called out cheerily as Budd en- 
 tered. "What 's up now?" A glance at the pa- 
 tient showed that Emile's description of him as 
 "very restless" was an understatement. The boy 
 looked as though he had been put through a 
 wringer. He carried a hand-bag, which he set on 
 a chair. 
 
 "Doctor Sumner," he began abruptly, "I want 
 you to tell my mother that you 've ordered me to 
 take a trip." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "For my health." 
 
 "And where am I sending you?" 
 
 "To New York." 
 
 "That's a good place to go for health. How 
 soon are you leaving?" 
 
 "By the next train the eleven-twenty." 
 
 "Sit down," said Jerry. "Now what is this all 
 about?" 
 
226 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "It is n't necessary to talk about it. All I want 
 to do is to get away." 
 
 "But it happens that it is necessary," Jerry an- 
 swered. "Just before Grace went home last night 
 you were going strong. Everything was fine. 
 Then the next thing I knew, she had bolted and 
 you 'd dashed off like a crazy man without a hat." 
 
 "I met you going home without a hat yourself a 
 little later," Budd countered. 
 
 "That 's neither here nor there," said Jerry, 
 high-handedly. "I want to know what happened." 
 
 "I tell you," said Budd with dignity, "that I pre- 
 fer not to discuss the matter. My treatment is 
 finished." 
 
 "And I suppose you're a well man; in which 
 case I don't see why I should order you off on a 
 trip." 
 
 Budd sank into a chair and gazed at him miser- 
 ably. 
 
 "Now tell me all about it," said Jerry, kindly. 
 
 Budd told him. As he drew toward the close 
 of his account of embracing Grace on the divan, his 
 emotions got the better of him, and he had diffi- 
 culty in going on. 
 
 "It was terrible," he said, "terrible." 
 
 Jerry suppressed a desire to laugh. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 227 
 
 "It was terrible," he said gravely. "But there 's 
 one more thing I want to know. Did you see her 
 again last night?" 
 
 "Oh, no!" the boy answered. "Of course I can 
 never see her again after behaving as I did." 
 
 "Well," said Jerry, hopefully, "I can't see that 
 any great harm has been done. I was afraid that 
 you 'd given our little plan away." 
 
 Budd looked at him anxiously. 
 
 "What harm would that do?" he demanded. 
 "Because after I got home I wrote her." 
 
 "Apologizing for having behaved in an ungen- 
 tlemanly manner, I suppose." 
 
 "Yes, and a lot more." 
 
 "You did n't tell her that you loved her still?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "And that you 'd never cared for anybody else?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And about my part in the matter?" 
 
 "I told her everything that I 'd tried to get over 
 it, but that I was worse than ever." 
 
 "Budd," said Jerry, with exasperation, "you are 
 a hopeless idiot." 
 
 "I know it," said Budd, "but I can't help it." 
 
 "Can't you see that everything was going just as 
 we hoped and planned it should? Why in heaven's 
 
228 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 name could n't you have let well enough alone?" 
 
 "When I found her crying out there " the boy 
 began. 
 
 "But don't you know what made her cry?" 
 
 "I suppose her ankle hurt her. What else could 
 it have been?" 
 
 "0 Lord!" Jerry exclaimed hopelessly. "Don't 
 you know that she was crying because she was 
 jealous?" 
 
 The boy looked at him in amazement. 
 
 "Because she was jealous?" he repeated incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 "Is n't that enough to make her cry? Has n't it 
 the same effect on you?" 
 
 "But who would she be jealous of?" the boy de- 
 manded. 
 
 "Why, Virginia, of course. Did n't she see you 
 dancing with her? Could n't you guess that I was 
 helping you along by telling her that you and Miss 
 Xelva were great friends and for a month past she 
 had been stopping with your mother?" 
 
 A light dawned slowly upon the boy. 
 
 "Good heavens," he exclaimed, "I believe that 's 
 it!" 
 
 "Of course it is," said Jerry. "And can't you 
 see that if she is jealous, it proves that she must 
 care for you?" 
 
THE BOOMERANG 229 
 
 "Oh, no; it is n't that," Budd answered. "She 9 s 
 jealous of Virginia, but that has n't anything to do 
 with me. She 'd know that Virginia and I were 
 just friends." 
 
 It was Jerry's turn to look surprised. 
 
 "But who else could it have to do with?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "Why, Preston De Witt. I don't suppose you 
 know about that. I only found out myself last 
 night." 
 
 A strange numbness came over Jerry. The 
 room began to swim. The inkstand on the desk 
 seemed to recede. The boy in the chair grew 
 small and far away. With an effort of the will he 
 collected himself. 
 
 "Found out what?" he demanded in a voice that 
 he dreaded to trust. 
 
 "Why, it 's this way," Budd answered ingenu- 
 ously. "You see, Grace has been completely fas- 
 cinated by that fellow, but ever since he was sure 
 of her I suppose he 's cared less about her than he 
 did at first. It's just your theory about love. 
 Anyway, for the last two weeks he 's been coming 
 to see Virginia. How he met her I don't know. I 
 never cared to ask, and he never came to the house 
 when I was there except once, but mother let it 
 drop that something was up. She thinks Preston 
 
230 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 is a very nice fellow, and of course he is bright. 
 Well, last night after the party mother said he had 
 been there again. He did n't know about the sur- 
 prise." 
 
 "Your mother certainly is n't encouraging that 
 bounder to make love to Virginia?" said Jerry, 
 savagely. 
 
 "She does n't think he 's a bounder. I 'm afraid 
 there 's a good deal to it," he added. "It 's ter- 
 rible for Grace." 
 
 "Do you know anything more about this?" Jerry 
 demanded. 
 
 "Well, Preston called to see her again this morn- 
 ing. I did n't know it and was just going into the 
 library when mother stopped me. She said he was 
 in there with Virginia. I asked her what it meant, 
 and she smiled you know the way women act 
 about such things and answered that I 'd know in 
 time, and that Virginia was a very lucky girl, and 
 that there would be a great surprise when it came 
 out. It will break Grace's heart." 
 
 "The devil take Grace!" Jerry muttered under 
 his breath. Everything bore out the conclusion 
 that had been forced on him last night. He sat 
 stunned and helpless for a time while the boy 
 watched him wonderingly. Presently he swung 
 round in his chair, rose, and squared his shoulders. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 231 
 
 He wanted to be alone. He must have time to 
 think. If there was anything that could be done, 
 he must do it. If not, he must get himself in hand 
 to face the facts. But first he must finish up with 
 Budd. 
 
 "So you want to go to New York?" he said 
 grimly. 
 
 Budd nodded. 
 
 "And then what?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 The boy sat there crushed and hopeless. A 
 wave of sympathy such as he had never known be- 
 fore swept over Jerry. Now that he was up against 
 the same situation and knew the pain of it, he felt 
 drawn to Budd in a new way. The boy's pathetic 
 helplessness wrung his heart. 
 
 "Did you write her that you were going?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Budd nodded. 
 
 "I said that she would never be bothered by me 
 again. It was the least I could do." 
 
 "Budd,' 3 said Jerry, "I don't feel as competent 
 to advise you as I once did. Things don't seem 
 to work out always as they should, but I think it 
 would be very unwise of you to clear out to-day." 
 
 "I don't see why," the boy answered. "I can't 
 stand hanging about here any longer. I know 
 
232 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 you 're a great doctor, but these anti-jealousy bugs 
 certainly have n't done anything for me." 
 
 "There are lots of things in this world that a 
 man has to stand," Jerry answered. "And I don't 
 think your case even now is half as hopeless as a 
 great many. In the first place, the chances are 
 that you 're entirely wrong about Grace being jeal- 
 ous of Preston De Witt's attentions to Virginia. I 
 don't think she knows about them, for one thing, and 
 what you don't know does n't make you jealous. 
 In the next place, I don't think she 'd care if she did 
 know about them. Grace has never had any seri- 
 ous use for Preston except to torment you, and I 'm 
 pretty sure Preston has known it as well as any one. 
 If he could have married her, he would have been 
 glad to do it because she 's attractive and will have 
 money; but that 's all there is to it. Now if you 
 could only remember this and behave in a sane, 
 reasonable way, everything would come out all 
 right." 
 
 "It 's easy for you to say so," said Budd, gloom- 
 ily, "but it 's no use. You can't understand, be- 
 cause you 've never been jealous." 
 
 Jerry winced, but said nothing. 
 
 "Just loving her does n't seem to count for any- 
 thing," the boy went on, "but that 's all I can do. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 233 
 
 You 're wrong about her caring for me. If she 
 cared for me, she would n't treat me the way she 
 does. The best thing for me is to clear out and not 
 bother her any more." 
 
 "You can wait till to-morrow at least," said 
 Jerry. A new idea had begun to shape itself in his 
 mind. 
 
 "I suppose I could do that. If I do, will you 
 promise to order me away on a trip? I don't want 
 mother to know." 
 
 "I '11 make no promises," Jerry answered. 
 "But I '11 expect you to wait. Come in to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 Budd rose and took his bag. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" he asked. 
 
 "I don't know now, but I '11 tell you to-morrow," 
 Jerry answered. 
 
 At the door the boy stopped suddenly. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "why should you think 
 Preston has given up trying to marry Grace?" 
 
 "Have n't you just told me that your mother says 
 he 's going to marry Virginia?" Jerry answered 
 testily. 
 
 "But why should he want to marry Virginia? 
 She 's nice, but she has n't any money." 
 
 "Perhaps he does n't know she has n't any money. 
 
234 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Perhaps he 's in love with her. If he is n't, I give 
 it up. You 'd better leave your bag here," he 
 added. 
 
 Budd made no comment, but set it down and 
 went out. 
 
 As the door closed Jerry pressed his fingers 
 against his eyes. They ached dully. The world, 
 which had always been so pleasant and reasonable, 
 seemed to have turned mad. As Budd suggested, 
 why, indeed, should De Witt want to marry Vir- 
 ginia? But, again, why should n't he? Was n't 
 the girl in herself the most desirable thing in the 
 universe? No sane answer to anything seemed 
 possible. He roused himself presently. His was 
 not a nature to give way to despair. He must make 
 a last effort to get Budd straightened out if only to 
 put his own troubles out of mind. But his efforts 
 to think were abortive. Always that slim figure 
 was before him as he saw her sitting with her back 
 to him just before the door opened and Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge came out of the den. With a sudden effort 
 of the will, he pressed the bell for Emile. 
 
 The door opened, and Virginia entered. A 
 tremor ran through him. Instead of the nurse's 
 uniform that she usually wore she was dressed in a 
 dark-blue, tailored suit evidently a traveling suit, 
 for like Budd she came in with a traveling-bag. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 235 
 
 He stared at her, unaware of his ferocious aspect. 
 
 "Good morning," she began, then stopped, dis- 
 concerted by his manner. 
 
 "I was expecting Emile," he said. "Did you 
 notice if my car was outside?" 
 
 "Yes, it is," she answered, her perplexity deep- 
 ening. 
 
 "I 've got to make a call before office hours," he 
 announced shortly. 
 
 "Your car is in front of the house," she said, 
 with embarrassment. "I did n't see you again last 
 night," she went on. "Mr. Woodbridge came in 
 after every one had gone to bed. I have n't had a 
 chance to speak to him. Did anything go wrong?" 
 
 "Everything," Jerry answered. 
 
 She stood silent and ill at ease. 
 
 "Are you going away?" he demanded. 
 
 "I was going to ask you if you had any objection 
 to my going away for a few days," she answered; 
 "Emile says he 's willing to look after things." 
 
 "Why, of course, I 've no objection. When do 
 you want to go?" 
 
 "The train leaves at eleven-twenty." 
 
 "You 're going to New York, too?" 
 
 "Too?" she repeated, with a mystified look. 
 
 "Budd thought of taking the same train. 
 Did n't you know it?" 
 
236 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 She shook her head. She was silent for a mo- 
 ment, thinking. 
 
 "You 're not angry with me?" she asked. 
 
 "Why should I be?" 
 
 "I don't know," she answered, with a note of dis- 
 tress. "Only " She broke off and added: 
 "Of course I should n't think of asking you so sud- 
 denly like this, but it 's something important. I 'd 
 like to tell you all about it, but I 'm half afraid." 
 She laughed nervously. 
 
 "Have I asked you to tell me?" he snapped. 
 "I 've no right to pry into your private affairs. 
 You 're at perfect liberty to go as soon as you like 
 and stay as long." 
 
 "You 're very good," she answered, a little 
 crushed. She shot him a look of wonder and re- 
 proach, and turned to go. 
 
 He called after her, and she stopped. 
 
 "You 'd better take this," he said. He held out 
 some new bills that he had taken from his pocket. 
 
 "But I don't need any money." 
 
 "It belongs to you. Your month is up." 
 
 She came back dejectedly and took the money. 
 
 "But this is too much," she said, protesting. 
 
 "It 's your salary," he answered. "You 've 
 earned it." 
 
 She thanked him and stood uncertain. She had 
 
THE BOOMERANG 237 
 
 never seen him like this before. What could it 
 mean? 
 
 "Perhaps I don't understand," she faltered. 
 "Do you expect me to come back?" 
 
 "Why, of course if you want to. This place will 
 be open to you always" he went on with a tremor 
 in his voice, "and whatever it is that is calling you 
 away, I hope it will bring you happiness." 
 
 He remained standing as if to intimate that the 
 interview was ended. She looked at him non- 
 plussed, then turned to go as Emile thrust his head 
 in. 
 
 "I beg pardon," he said, "but Mr. De Witt wish' 
 to speak to Miss Xelva on the telephone." 
 
 "Will you excuse me?" she said in some con- 
 fusion, and went out. 
 
 Jerry paced the length of the room and back with 
 fierce strides. "Is that man always to be turning 
 up?" he muttered impatiently. Then the signifi- 
 cance of the telephone message and her trip to town 
 burst on him. Preston's aunt, his nearest relative, 
 lived in New York. Virginia was going on to be 
 presented to her exactly as was to be expected. It 
 was perfectly clear, but why had n't she told him? 
 In the next breath he was demanding of himself 
 why in heaven's name she should. He had noth- 
 ing to do with her private affairs. He was a doc- 
 
238 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 tor, and she was an office employee, and that was 
 all there was to it. He flung open the door that 
 led into the house, passed through raging, and made 
 for his motor-car, which stood beside the curb. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 TEN minutes later Jerry was ringing the Tylers' 
 front door-bell. Once for all he was going 
 to get Budd's tangle straightened out. Just how 
 Grace would receive him was a question. Now 
 that Budd had written her the whole story of the 
 "treatments" and of his part in the developments 
 of the past month, she had a right to be angry and 
 undoubtedly would be. Moreover, Budd's revela- 
 tion had lost him the whip-hand, which only the 
 night before he seemed to have gained so com- 
 pletely. It was a bad business, but he must face 
 it. 
 
 As he heard the door open, he began to turn over 
 in his mind what he would do if she refused to see 
 him. He decided that the best thing would be to 
 give her no chance to refuse. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Tyler in?" he asked the maid. 
 
 The maid answered that she had gone out in the 
 automobile about ten minutes before. 
 
 "I 'm Dr. Sumner," he announced. "I have an 
 appointment to see Miss Tyler professionally." 
 
 The girl raised no question, but took his hat and 
 
 239 
 
240 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 led him up-stairs. She knocked, opened the door, 
 and ushered Jerry into a little sitting-room where 
 Grace was lying on a sofa with an unopened book 
 upon her lap. She looked up at the intruder ap- 
 parently without surprise, smiled somewhat wanly, 
 and held out her hand. 
 
 This struck Jerry as odd. 
 
 "Ankle pretty bad?" he asked. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "You were good to come so quickly. Mother 
 could have only just telephoned you." 
 
 So she had telephoned for him; but why? Why 
 had she wanted to see him? Was it to berate him? 
 Her reception of him indicated nothing of that sort. 
 
 "I was just starting out," he answered truthfully. 
 "It only took a minute to run over. You got away 
 from me last night," he added after a pause. "I 
 came right back after telephoning De Witt and 
 found that you had gone." 
 
 "I know," she answered. "My ankle hurt so I 
 could n't bear it. And after you had gone, I re- 
 membered that mother said she was going to send 
 the car for me. So I just went." 
 
 "I dare say that was wise," he said dryly. "The 
 best place for an ankle of that kind is bed. But 
 what can I do for you now?" 
 
"I dare say that was wise," he said dryly 
 
THE BOOMERANG 241 
 
 She avoided his look. 
 
 "You see, I felt terribly at leaving you without 
 an explanation after I had sent you to telephone 
 Preston. I wanted to tell you I was sorry and 
 well, I wanted to find out what he said when he 
 came and found I 'd gone." 
 
 "How do you know he came?" demanded Jerry. 
 
 "Well, did n't he?" 
 
 "When I telephoned his apartment, they said he 
 was in New York." 
 
 "But he came?" 
 
 "Yes, he came," said Jerry, grimly. 
 
 "Surely not to see Budd." 
 
 "No, not to see Budd," he assented. "Have n't 
 you called him up this morning?" 
 
 "I could n't get him," she answered. "He was 
 out. They said he had a pressing business engage- 
 ment?" 
 
 Jerry laughed hoarsely, and their eyes met. 
 Suddenly he realized that she had read what was 
 in his mind. 
 
 "You don't mean that he 9 s trying to make a hit 
 with that Miss Xelva?" 
 
 "I have n't mentioned Miss Xelva," Jerry an- 
 swered. 
 
 "But it's so. She's very attractive," Grace 
 
242 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 added with an effort. A moment later her lip 
 trembled and burying her face in the pillow, she 
 began to sob. 
 
 "Perhaps I 'd better have a look at the ankle," 
 Jerry said after he had given her a little time; "I 
 know how the pain gets on one's nerves. I don't 
 suppose you slept much." 
 
 She raised her head with an effort, smiled dole- 
 fully, and began to mop her eyes. 
 
 "I 'm the limit, am I not?" she said brokenly. 
 
 "You 're all right," he answered. "That is, you 
 would be if you let me take charge of the case." 
 
 "How do you mean?" she demanded, but he 
 knew by the way she avoided meeting his eyes that 
 she understood. 
 
 "Let's talk plainly," he said. "I know all 
 about your ankle and how it came to make you go 
 home. More than that, I 've got a cure for it if 
 you want to be cured." 
 
 Her color rose, and she shook her head. 
 
 "You don't know what you 're talking about," 
 she said fiercely. 
 
 "I know perfectly well what I 'm talking about," 
 he retorted. "All you 've got to do is to promise 
 to obey instructions." 
 
 "You're a very extraordinary man," she ob- 
 observed. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 243 
 
 "I am," he admitted, "and I 'm going to tell you 
 some very extraordinary things. In the first place, 
 as the fortune-tellers say, you 're going to receive 
 a letter from a man you 're very fond of. It 's 
 probably on a tray in the pantry at this moment, 
 having been forgotten by the maid that brought up 
 your breakfast. Now when it comes, I want you to 
 give it to me without reading it." 
 
 "The pieces are in that waste-basket," she said 
 in an icy voice. "If you wish them, take them." 
 
 "You did n't read it?" 
 
 "Naturally." 
 
 "You knew it was from Budd?" 
 
 "I never wish to see or speak to Budd again!" 
 she answered explosively. "He 's not a gentle- 
 
 man." 
 
 "I know what Budd did," he said quietly, "and 
 you know that he never would have done it if he 
 had n't thought you were suffering terribly from 
 your ankle." 
 
 "That made it all the worse," she broke out. 
 "I don't want any one to be sorry for me." 
 
 "But if a person likes you he can't help being 
 sorry for you." 
 
 "What!" she cried, and glared at him. 
 
 "I said if a person likes you he can't help being 
 sorry for you. You don't seem to know much 
 
244 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 about men," he went on. "You think that a man 
 who likes one woman can't like another at the 
 same time, but that is n't so. Now I 'm going to 
 talk to you like an uncle. If Budd is interested 
 in Miss Xelva, it 's because you 've driven him to 
 it. Never mind how I 've found it out; but I hap- 
 pen to know that he 's cared for you for more than 
 a year and you Ve treated him like a dog. He 's 
 sweet and simple and devoted, and because he was 
 jealous, as any man would be of a girl as attractive 
 as you are, you flaunted De Witt at him and made 
 his life a burden. Is it any wonder that when a 
 gentle, sympathetic woman turned up, he should 
 try to find some consolation? Just how far it 's 
 gone I don't pretend to know, but I can guess how 
 far it will go if you don't change your tactics. If 
 you don't want to get him back, all right. But if 
 you do, and I believe you still have a chance, 
 you 've got to take him as he is and let his loyalty 
 and devotion make up for his being a little exact- 
 ing. You see he 's very young and well, he loves 
 you a good deal." 
 
 "But he does n't," she answered f alteringly. 
 "He told me so himself last night." 
 
 "Can't you understand how a boy like Budd 
 would tell you that?" he demanded. "He thinks 
 he only bores you and that his attentions make you 
 
THE BOOMERANG 245 
 
 unhappy. The brave and generous thing for him 
 to do in such a case is to tell you not to worry about 
 him. And that 's what he tried to do. Of course 
 the danger is that he '11 get to believe it himself 
 and ask Miss Xelva to marry him." 
 
 "You think he has n't asked her yet?" 
 
 "I know he has n't." 
 
 Grace looked away and sat very still. A 
 struggle was going on within her. Suddenly she 
 turned toward him and held out her hand. He 
 took it. 
 
 "Now you 're talking sense," he said, smiling. 
 
 "You 've been very good," she answered meekly. 
 "But why have you taken all this trouble?" 
 
 "Why should n't I?" he answered. "I 'm fond 
 of Budd and I 'm fond of you. Besides, there is n't 
 any too much happiness in this old world. If one 
 can straighten out a tangle, it 's a good day's 
 work." 
 
 She gazed at him searchingly. 
 
 "Somehow you 've changed," she said, "or I 've 
 misjudged you. I should n't have thought you 'd 
 understand this way." 
 
 "Stuff!" he answered. He felt his color rise, 
 and he looked away to avoid her gaze. "I 've got 
 to go back to the office," he went on. "I 'm late 
 now. Good-by and good luck! Remember what 
 
246 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 I tell you. Lose no time in proposing, and when 
 you 've married him, practise appreciating him. 
 It 's the only way to keep things." He grasped her 
 hand and was gone. 
 
 Grace heard his descending footfall on the stair, 
 the closing of the front door, and the starting of his 
 motor. She lay back on the couch, her eyes closed, 
 thinking. A strange surmise had come to her at 
 the moment when he avoided her eyes. Something 
 certainly had happened that had worked a subtle 
 soul change in Jerry. It was n't her fancy. He 
 was different. Suddenly she found it. The man 
 was in love. As surmise crystallized into convic- 
 tion, she started up, a vague suspicion taking pos- 
 session of her. With a quick movement she 
 reached the basket where she had deposited the 
 torn scraps of Budd's unread letter and drew it 
 towards her. She must see with her own eyes what 
 Budd had really said. She had paste and tissue- 
 paper at hand. She would put the torn pages to- 
 gether again. She would make sure that what 
 Jerry had told her it contained was the truth. To 
 her dismay she found the basket empty. The maid 
 must have removed the contents when she did the 
 room. She hesitated a moment and then rang the 
 bell. 
 
 Julia, the housemaid, came promptly. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 247 
 
 "I put an address that I wanted in the waste- 
 basket," Grace said. "Where do you empty those 
 things?" 
 
 "Frank burned all the waste paper in the furnace 
 this morning," the girl answered. "I 'm sorry." 
 
 "It's of no great importance," said Grace dis- 
 ingenuously. When she was alone again she went 
 to the telephone. Her impulse was to call up 
 Budd and ask him to come. If Budd was not in- 
 terested in Miss Xelva, he would be glad to come. 
 If he were well, she could quickly tell. What 
 perplexed her was Jerry's motive for going to the 
 pains he had taken to bring Budd and herself to- 
 gether. A man who had just fallen in love was 
 apt to be occupied with his own affairs. The 
 psychology of men in love was one of the things 
 she understood best. 
 
 Suddenly the full truth flashed upon her. Jerry 
 was in love with Virginia. Whatever might be 
 Budd's real attitude toward herself, his attentions 
 to Miss Xelva stood in the doctor's way. He 
 wanted to get Budd safely side-tracked. To the 
 circumstance that Preston had dropped into the 
 party to see Miss Xelva the night before she did 
 not attach much importance. She knew Preston 
 like a book. He was not the kind of rival that 
 would disturb a man like Jerry. Jerry would 
 
248 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 realize that his cleverness and superficial charm 
 would make no deep appeal to a girl such as Vir- 
 ginia appeared to be. On the other hand, Budd, 
 with his sweetness, his boyish simplicity, his loy- 
 alty, and his capacity for devotion, might very well 
 be feared. She feared herself for the effect those 
 qualities might already have made on the girl and 
 the girl's response to them. It was, therefore, pos- 
 sible that Jerry as an interested party had been 
 grinding his own ax rather than hers. She must 
 make sure. 
 
 She called the familiar number and in tremu- 
 lous tones asked if Mr. Budd was at home. 
 
 "Why, no, Miss," said Hartley. "Mr. Budd left 
 the house a few minutes ago. I believe he was 
 going to New York." 
 
 "New York?" she repeated. 
 
 "That 's what I understood. Miss; on the eleven- 
 twenty." 
 
 "Do you know when he '11 be back?" 
 
 "He did n't say, Miss." 
 
 She hung up, baffled for the moment. Then re- 
 solving on another tack, she called Preston's office 
 again. She would summon him. She knew him 
 so well that she was sure she could find out if he 
 was giving Mrs. Woodbridge's guest what she 
 called a "serious rush," and, if he was, what he 
 
THE BOOMERANG 249 
 
 thought of Budd's relation to the girl. The next 
 moment she recognized Preston's voice. 
 
 "You 're a nice person," she began banteringly. 
 "Came to the party last night and never even 
 danced with me. What do you think of your- 
 self?" 
 
 "Well, I'll be hanged!" said Preston in frank 
 amazement. "How did you know I was there?" 
 
 "I know everything," Grace answered. "Don't 
 you know that yet?" 
 
 "Did Budd tell you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Who did?" 
 
 "Can't tell you; heard it in confidence. Heard 
 a good deal more, top." 
 
 "That 's nice," said Preston, recovering his 
 usual equanimity. 
 
 "If you '11 come up and see me right away, I 
 might drop you a helpful hint or two." 
 
 "But I can't get away." 
 
 "Fudge!" 
 
 "It 's absolutely impossible." 
 
 "Got a date with Miss Xelva?" 
 
 "Quit your kiddin'," answered Preston, imper- 
 turbably. 
 
 "But I 'm not kidding; I hear it 's all over but 
 the wedding march." 
 
250 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Your intelligence bureau must have broken 
 down," he answered. "Did n't you know she was 
 out of town this morning?" 
 
 "Out of town?" 
 
 "Sure. You ought to change your detectives. 
 She 's taking the eleven-twenty for New York." 
 
 Grace's heart stopped beating. 
 
 "That must be quite a blow," she managed to 
 say. ' 
 
 "Yes, it is," he answered. "If I can, I '11 stop 
 in this afternoon rather late." 
 
 "All right," she said mechanically, and put the 
 receiver on the hook. She rose unsteadily from 
 the chair, made her way to the couch, and dropped 
 miserably upon it. Budd and Virginia together 
 on their way to town! Her suspicions of Jerry 
 Sumner were confirmed. That letter that she had 
 destroyed doubtless said only what Budd had told 
 her himself the night before with perhaps some 
 lame apology for his outrageous behavior. He 
 was lost to her, and, anyway, she never wanted to 
 lay eyes on him again. He was a cad and a brute. 
 She buried her face in the pillow and fell to sob- 
 bing. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 ON his way back to the office after leaving 
 Grace, Jerry allowed himself to indulge in 
 certain self-congratulatory reflections. By a 'for- 
 tunate chance Grace had not read Budd's letter, and 
 as a result of his visit the troubled course of their 
 young loves seemed likely to have a prompt and 
 happy ending. Of Grace's telephoning he was, of 
 course, ignorant. He likewise began to take a 
 brighter view of his own personal troubles. 
 
 Fortunately for all of us, hope is a counselor 
 that, driven out the door, returns by the window. 
 Already Jerry began to find reasons why the thing 
 he dreaded most might not really happen. 
 Granted that Virginia and Preston were actually 
 engaged and that she had gone on to New York 
 to meet his aunt, there was still a long distance be- 
 tween that and their getting married. Although 
 Preston was doing well at the law, his income was 
 not such as would permit him to marry a penniless 
 girl immediately. Beyond that Jerry had a con- 
 viction that Preston did not yet know she was pen- 
 niless. Preston had probably made his deduc- 
 
 251 
 
252 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 tions from her manner of dress, her jewels, and 
 her obvious accustomedness to luxury, as well as 
 from the circumstance that she was Mrs. Wood- 
 bridge's guest. Virginia, with her simplicity and 
 idealism, would probably have considered it de- 
 grading even to think about money at such a 
 time, and while she must have told him that she 
 was training to be a nurse, that need not have im- 
 plied that it was from the necessity of making a 
 living. 
 
 Jerry therefore figured that Preston had a severe 
 shock waiting for him when the truth came out. 
 Furthermore, something told him that a nature as 
 fine as Virginia's would shrink from a nature like 
 Preston's when she had time enough really to un- 
 derstand it. It was all as logical as two and two 
 make four that given time enough the Preston De 
 Witt menace would disappear in thin air. The 
 trouble was, however, and Jerry realized it with 
 dismay, that sober reason was an unstable founda- 
 tion. When he most needed it, it was n't there. 
 All his wise advice to Budd became meaningless 
 words when that wave of passionate, unreasoning 
 jealousy swept over him. If ever there was a 
 case of "physician heal thyself," he was it. If 
 only the serum had been a real thing, he would 
 have taken a gallon of it; but it was n't. He must 
 
THE BOOMERANG 253 
 
 fight the battle unaided as other men had to fight 
 it. His scorn of himself was intense when he 
 realized that he was in the same pitiable category 
 as Budd, but scorn of oneself was not a remedy. 
 All he could do was to work and wait and hope and 
 tell himself that he was a fool. Of these, work 
 was the most satisfactory. The thought that his 
 efforts in Budd's behalf at last promised to be suc- 
 cessful was distinctly comforting. 
 
 The first thing he did when he settled himself at 
 his desk was to call up Budd. He would get 
 hold of the boy and send him to Grace at once. 
 The word that he received from Hartley was, of 
 course, the same that Grace had received but a few 
 minutes before. Confirming it, he noted that 
 Budd's bag had disappeared. He uttered an ex- 
 clamation of annoyance and pressed the bell. 
 
 "Bring Stone in if he 's out there," he said as 
 Emile appeared. 
 
 "Bien, Monsieur," said the man. He laid two 
 notes upon the desk and withdrew. 
 
 Jerry took one of the envelops and tore it open. 
 It contained a line from Budd. 
 
 "I can't stand this town any longer," he wrote. 
 "I 'm taking the 11:20. Will put up at the Har- 
 vard Club." 
 
 Jerry reached for a telegraph blank. 
 
254 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Take next train back," he wrote. "Call me 
 up when you arrive." Then he took the other en- 
 velop, and started as he saw that the handwriting 
 was Virginia's. 
 
 At this moment Stone came in with his arm in a 
 sling. Jerry nodded to him vacantly, and ran his 
 eye over the contents. It read: 
 
 You have been so good to me that I hardly know how 
 to say what I feel I ought to say. In spite of what I told 
 you this morning I don't think I shall come back to the 
 office. Please always remember that your goodness and 
 patience with me have been the best things in my life. I 
 wish that I could repay you. If you want me to get you 
 in New York a really competent nurse for the office, I 
 should be glad to try. 
 
 Always yours sincerely, 
 
 VIRGINIA XELVA. 
 
 He thrust the sheet of paper in his pocket and 
 turned to the machinist. 
 
 "Well, Stone," he said, "how is the arm this 
 morning?" There was a strange mist before his 
 eyes, in which the room and the patient swam un- 
 steadily. He gripped the arm of his chair till it 
 began to clear. 
 
 "Better, Doctor," Stone answered. "I had a 
 good night." 
 
 "We '11 have a look at it," said Jerry. He rose 
 
THE BOOMERANG 255 
 
 and began unfastening the bandages. The arm 
 was doing well. He changed the dressing and sent 
 the man away. 
 
 After Stone came a woman with neuralgia, one 
 of Mrs. Woodbridge's protegees, then a boy with a 
 cold, then others. It was after twelve when Emile 
 announced that the waiting-room was empty. 
 Jerry lighted a cigarette that he immediately threw 
 away and, taking Virginia's note from his pocket, 
 read it twice. 
 
 It was the kind of note a girl going away with 
 the intention of getting married would be apt to 
 write except for the phrase, "Your goodness and 
 patience with me have been the best things in my 
 life." If Virginia felt that way toward him would 
 she go off without telling him the truth? It hardly 
 seemed likely, though, of course, Preston might 
 have insisted on absolute secrecy for the present. 
 Suddenly a new theory burst on him. It was wild, 
 yet he grasped at it as the drowning man at the 
 straw. Preston had found out about her having 
 no money and had back-pedalled. The girl, 
 cruelly hurt, was leaving town for the same reason 
 that Budd was leaving. But, then, how could this 
 be made to square with what Mrs. Woodbridge had 
 told Budd, or with the match-maker's smile with 
 which she had come out of the den the night be- 
 
256 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 fore? If Preston had confided the news of his en- 
 gagement to Mrs. Woodbridge he could n't have 
 backed out so abruptly no matter what he had 
 found out. He would have used a more delicate 
 method. Preston was no bungler. In the end 
 Jerry derived little comfort from the note. He 
 was putting it back in his pocket when a step be- 
 hind him made him start, and turning, he saw his 
 father. 
 
 "I hope you 're lunching at home," said the 
 colonel, with a smile. 
 
 "I was expecting to," Jerry answered. "Why?" 
 
 "Bruce Gordon has just telephoned that he 's in 
 town and will lunch with us. Of course he wants 
 to talk hospital with you. You remember him, 
 don't you?" 
 
 Jerry nodded. 
 
 "I have n't seen him since I was a kid. I used 
 to be afraid of him." 
 
 The colonel laughed. 
 
 "His bark is worse than his bite." 
 
 "They don't seem to think so in New York," 
 said Jerry. 
 
 "A man who has made millions does n't have 
 to have good manners," said the colonel. "More- 
 over, I suppose one can't make money without also 
 making enemies, but he 's been my friend for fifty 
 
THE BOOMERANG 257 
 
 years, and I want him to be yours. Now in dis- 
 cussing this hospital business," the colonel went 
 on, "speak your mind and disagree with him if 
 you think his ideas are wrong. He does n't get on 
 with people who give way to him." 
 
 "I '11 do my best," said Jerry. 
 
 Marion was lunching with the Ludlows, and the 
 three men sat down together. Contrary to his ex- 
 pectations, Jerry found himself drawn to the finan- 
 cier. It was possible that under the influence of 
 his boyhood's associations he was more human and 
 kindly than usual, but at all events Jerry liked 
 him. He was a huge man, nearly six feet four. A 
 little stoop of the shoulders and a tinge of gray in 
 his hair indicated that he was no longer young, 
 but the vigor of his voice and manner was unim- 
 paired. As the meal progressed, the twinkle in 
 his cold, piercing eyes kindled oftener. He 
 seemed to be laying aside business cares and to 
 be enjoying himself. 
 
 The meal progressed, and he made no mention 
 of the hospital. Neither of the Sumners intro- 
 duced the subject, and they went into the library 
 for coffee. As Gordon lighted his cigar, he settled 
 himself in his chair and turned to the colonel. 
 
 "We 're going to get down to business now," 
 thought Jerry. 
 
258 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 There was a silence during which the financier 
 puffed vigorously at his cigar. Then with harsh 
 abruptness he said: 
 
 "Addison, you remember my sister Amy?" 
 
 "Naturally." 
 
 Jerry saw an expression of amazement cross his 
 father's face. 
 
 "I don't think I ever was quite fair to her," Gor- 
 don went on as if he were discussing the weather. 
 "I wanted her to marry you. But she did n't want 
 to marry you, and you did n't want to marry her, 
 and I suppose you each had something to say about 
 
 it." 
 
 "We were more like brother and sister," said 
 the colonel. 
 
 "You were a better brother to her than I was," 
 said Gordon. "But that can't be changed now. 
 She went her way, and I went mine. I suppose I 
 should have forgiven her just as mother did if she 
 hadn't died." He broke off, and his eyes met 
 Colonel Sumner's. "That was a good while ago, 
 Addison." 
 
 "It was," said the colonel. 
 
 "We 're pretty close to being through," Gordon 
 went on. "How quick it all passes! Yesterday 
 we were like this," he nodded toward Jerry, 
 "to-day we 're what we are lonely old men and 
 
THE BOOMERANG 259 
 
 to-morrow we quit. Do you ever stop to wonder 
 what it 's all about?" 
 
 "The trouble with you, Bruce," said the colonel, 
 "is that you ought to have married." 
 
 "So I ought to have bought steel at eight and a 
 half, but I did n't. You can't play the game by 
 thinking what you ought to have done, Addison. I 
 have n't a son, and thinking about it won't give me 
 one; so I don't think about it." 
 
 "Still," said the colonel, consolingly, "there are 
 other compensating things." 
 
 "Perhaps," said the financier. "But you 've 
 had all the best of it, Addison ; you were the lucky 
 one. Don't forget that. If I had my life to live 
 over, I suppose I 'd live it just as I have and regret 
 at the end of it that I had n't stayed in Elmford 
 and married like you, and that 's all you can say 
 about it." 
 
 "Still, it must give you a great deal of satisfac- 
 tion," said the colonel, "to do all that you are able 
 to do for other people. Think of this hospital 
 you 're giving. Think of the thousands it will 
 help." 
 
 Gordon made no answer. He struck another 
 match and relighted his cigar. 
 
 "Jerry," he said shortly, "do you know a young 
 man in Grant's office named De Witt?" 
 
260 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "I know him," said Jerry. 
 
 "Bright fellow, is n't he?" 
 
 "Every one says so." 
 
 "I wish you 'd get him on the telephone for me. 
 I want to speak to him." 
 
 "Of course," said Jerry, and rose. 
 
 "I think I might as well tell you," Gordon went 
 on to the colonel, "that having no family of my 
 own, I 'm on the way ta/acquiring one." 
 
 The colonel gazed at him, open-mouthed. 
 
 "You mean you 're going to get married?" 
 
 "No," said Gordon, laughing; "not so bad as 
 that. I 'm contemplating a form of adoption." 
 
 "Not Preston De Witt?" exclaimed the colonel. 
 
 "I don't know. It might come to that no one 
 ever knows." He smiled grimly. 
 
 Jerry stopped on his way to the door, his eyes 
 riveted on the financier. 
 
 "Just what do you mean?" the colonel de- 
 manded. 
 
 "It seems that Amy had a child," Gordon an- 
 swered. "She died soon after it was born. Now 
 the father is dead, and the child has turned up, 
 and I 'm fool enough at the age of sixty-two to 
 embark upon the career of uncle, that is, if it de- 
 cides to accept me. Apparently it 's in some doubt 
 about it." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 261 
 
 "Have you seen it?" 
 
 "That 's what I 'm here for." 
 
 "Is Amy's child in Elmford?" 
 
 "That 's what Grant tells me. There seems to 
 be no reason to doubt it. It 's a young person by 
 the name of Virginia Xelva." 
 
 "Virginia Xelva!" cried the colonel, aghast. 
 "She 's here in this house a nurse in Jerry's 
 office!" 
 
 Gordon looked at him sharply. He was not in 
 the habit of showing surprise. 
 
 "I thought she was stopping with Caroline Wood- 
 bridge." 
 
 "She is, but she 's with Jerry during office hours. 
 To think of Amy's daughter being in my home and 
 I not knowing it!" 
 
 Gordon turned to Jerry, who was standing 
 dumbly in the doorway. 
 
 "May I see her?" he asked. 
 
 "She 's in New York," Jerry answered. "She 
 went this morning on the eleven-twenty." 
 
 Gordon uttered an impatient ejaculation. 
 
 "I wired Grant's office this morning not to send 
 her on. Get me De Witt at once!" 
 
 Jerry went out to the telephone. From the hall 
 he heard the voices of the two men. Gordon was 
 asking the colonel if he had seen her and what sort 
 
262 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 of girl she was. But the voices sounded thin 
 and far away. His heart was beating like a trip- 
 hammer. It was clear now why Mrs. Woodbridge 
 had taken such a fancy to Virginia, and why Pres- 
 ton had been making love to her. For a fort- 
 night he had known that she was Bruce Gordon's 
 niece. Under Grant's direction he had doubtless 
 been investigating the case for Mr. Gordon and sup- 
 plying the proofs of Virginia's identity. For a 
 fortnight he had known that Virginia was a great 
 heiress. The girl, touched and flattered by his 
 attentions, had been swept off her feet. Preston 
 had her and would never let go his hold. As 
 Jerry's last hope snapped, a blind rage swept him. 
 He understood now how Budd had felt. If he 
 could have clasped his fingers around Preston's 
 throat he would have committed murder joyously. 
 But Preston's throat not being in his clasp, he called 
 Grant's office and told the clerk who answered that 
 Mr. Gordon wished to speak with Mr. De Witt. He 
 went back to the library, reported that De Witt was 
 on the wire and then, seizing his hat, went hur- 
 riedly out. 
 
PART VI 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 AS Jerry came out of the house depressed with 
 the knowledge that Virginia was Bruce Gor- 
 don's niece and presumable heir and that Preston 
 De Witt had been aware of these facts for a fort- 
 night, he encountered the postman coming up the 
 steps. 
 
 "Shall I put your mail in the box or will you 
 take it?" the man asked. 
 
 "I'll take it," Jerry answered. The little 
 packet apparently consisted of bills and advertis- 
 ing circulars. He was about to thrust it into his 
 pocket when his eye caught a familiar handwrit- 
 ing. It was on an envelop that bore the printed 
 name of a New York hotel. Mechanically he tore 
 it open and began to read : 
 
 DEAR OLD JERRY: 
 
 Here I am on what they call the Great White Way, 
 getting my appetite back after the trip across "the pond." 
 The pater and I had another little disagreement, and the 
 result is that I Ve been shipped out to your wild and 
 woolly Occident. What I now have to propose is this, 
 that we have a month in Wyoming together after elk and 
 
 265 
 
266 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 mountain sheep. You can't get out of it with a tele- 
 graphic no, for I 'm coming Thursday to your bucolic 
 Elmford to debate the matter in person and carry you 
 off. We all lamented your absence at the moor, but the 
 birds were scarce and sport poor, so your virtue had the 
 reward of not missing much. This ought to reach you 
 Wednesday. That is to-morrow, and the next day I shall 
 see you. You might wire me that you are home. So no 
 more at present from 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 MARCHY. 
 
 "P. S. I saw Mildway just before sailing, and he sent 
 a lot of messages which I have forgotten." 
 
 "By Jove!" Jerry muttered, "I '11 go to Wyom- 
 ing!" He got into his car and drove to the tele- 
 graph-office, where he wired Marchbanks that he 
 would meet him Thursday morning on the train 
 leaving New York at ten. Then he headed over 
 the bridge and made his way to the open country. 
 He had no idea where he was going. He only 
 wanted to get away from everything. Presently 
 he was tearing over the hills in violation of all 
 known speed laws. 
 
 In the meanwhile Budd and Virginia had been 
 adventuring into the unknown, separately. 
 
 By the time Budd reached the station that morn- 
 ing, the train was already coming in. He dashed 
 
THE BOOMERANG 267 
 
 up to the ticket window, got his ticket, and was 
 starting for the train when he saw Virginia on the 
 platform waiting to board the parlor car. Having 
 no idea of her intentions, he jumped at the conclu- 
 sion that Jerry had discovered his departure and 
 had hastily despatched her on his trail. Just how 
 Jerry could have found out that he was not waiting 
 till the next day in time to get Miss Xelva aboard 
 the eleven-twenty he did not stop to think out. As 
 a matter of fact Budd was too agitated to think out 
 anything. By this time existence had resolved it- 
 self into mere consciousness of torment. What he 
 wanted he could never have. His was a blighted 
 existence. All that he could expect was liberty to 
 crawl away like a wounded beast and wait forty 
 or fifty years for death to bring release, and now 
 even this modest privilege was about to be denied 
 him. 
 
 He had been intending to crawl as far as the 
 Grand Central Station in a Pullman chair, but when 
 he saw Virginia boarding the Pullman, he drew 
 back till she was out of sight and then hurriedly 
 made his way to one of the day-coaches. On 
 reaching New York he managed to be the first per- 
 son to leave the forward car and bolted for Van- 
 derbilt Avenue at a speed likely to make fe- 
 male pursuit fruitless. At Forty-Fourth Street 
 
268 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 he turned west and three minutes later was in a 
 position of relative safety within the portals of his 
 club. As he asked for a room the clerk handed 
 him Jerry's telegram. 
 
 Budd's impulse was to tear the sheet of yel- 
 low paper into bits and let it go at that. Taking 
 the first train back was unthinkable. He wanted 
 no more advice or treatment. However, when he 
 had gone to his room he decided that he owed 
 something to Jerry and finally called him up on the 
 telephone. The call reached Jerry as he was at- 
 tending to the last patient of the morning, just be- 
 fore his father had come in with the announcement 
 that Bruce Gordon was coming to lunch. 
 
 "I just got your telegram," Budd began. "Why 
 do you want me to take the next train back?" 
 
 "Because I thought you might like to marry a 
 certain lady," Jerry answered. 
 
 "But don't you understand that 's all off?" Budd 
 stammered. 
 
 "Look here," said Jerry. "I have n't time for 
 foolishness. I 've just seen her, and my advice is 
 to come back at once." 
 
 "But has she forgiven me for doing what I did 
 last night?" 
 
 "She has." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 269 
 
 " But in my letter I told her I was going away 
 and would n't bother her any more." 
 
 "Can't you understand," said Jerry, with some 
 exasperation, "that she wants to be bothered? She 
 found that out as soon as she thought you were in- 
 terested in some one else." 
 
 "Did you tell her I was n't?" 
 
 "I did, but I said you very well might be unless 
 she married you in the course of the week." 
 
 "Then you think I really ought to come back?" 
 
 "If you don't, you ought to be locked up." 
 
 "But if I go to see her how do you think I ought 
 to begin?" 
 
 There was no answer. A click at the other end 
 of the wire told him that Jerry had hung up. He 
 considered calling him again, but thought better 
 of it. Jerry evidently meant that he would have to 
 work that out for himself. 
 
 Budd found the news he had just received hard 
 to appreciate. After a certain point a starving 
 man feels no hunger. Budd was too numb for ela- 
 tion. However, he knew he must go back. He 
 proceeded down to the office, consulted a time-table, 
 and found that he could get a train at four-ten. 
 Then he gave up his room and ordered himself 
 some lunch. A little before four he called a taxi 
 
270 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 and started for the station. Feeling that he was 
 now immune from pursuit, he bought a parlor-car 
 seat, and with ten minutes to spare he sauntered 
 over to the telegraph-office and sent a wire to Hart- 
 ley asking him to have a car meet him at Elmford. 
 He decided that on arriving he would go at once 
 to Grace's. Then he bought the evening papers 
 and went aboard the train. His seat was near the 
 end. He glanced down the lines of passengers, 
 saw no one that he knew, and sat down. The train 
 started and was gathering headway when he 
 glanced up from his paper and saw the porter with 
 a hand-bag coming down the aisle, followed by 
 Virginia. The next moment she dropped into the 
 empty chair beside him. 
 
 "Why, Budd!" she exclaimed. "Isn't this 
 funny?" 
 
 "Yes, it is," said Budd, without enthusiasm. 
 
 "I looked for you this morning on the eleven- 
 twenty," she went on. "When did you come to 
 New York?" 
 
 "How did you know I was coming?" he an- 
 swered evasively. 
 
 "Dr. Sumner told me." 
 
 He glanced at her suspiciously, but her manner 
 was frank. She seemed to have nothing to con- 
 ceal. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 271 
 
 "He did n't tell you to come along and kind of 
 watch me?" he demanded. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Why, no," she answered. "Why should he? 
 I thought everything was going very well with 
 you." 
 
 "Well, it is now, but it had n't been." 
 
 "You mean you had another set-back?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "Well, I 'm sure that it will all be all right," she 
 said, smiling. "I had an idea that you had come to 
 buy something at the jeweler's." 
 
 He colored. 
 
 "What have you been doing in New York?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 "Just business," she answered. "And when I 
 got here I found that I had come on for nothing 
 and had to come right back." 
 
 "It had n't anything to do with me?" 
 
 "Nothing. It will be funny not to be getting 
 up at six o'clock to-morrow morning and going 
 through our training," she went on. "Do you 
 think you '11 miss it?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 "I think I shall," she said. "However, your 
 mother has asked me to stop on for a few days 
 longer." 
 
272 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Do you think you '11 miss your work at the 
 doctor's?" he asked. 
 
 It was Virginia's turn to be surprised. 
 
 "How did you know that I 'd given it up?" she 
 demanded. 
 
 "Why, I don't know," he stammered. "I just 
 supposed naturally " 
 
 She looked confused and opened her paper, and 
 Budd did likewise. 
 
 Conversation languished after that. Budd read 
 the front-page headlines three times without any 
 definite impression of the day's news till Virginia 
 swung her chair around and left him to undisturbed 
 thought. Her appearance had created new com- 
 plications. He could hardly go off in his car and 
 leave her standing on the platform to hunt for a 
 taxi when she was staying in his house. Yet he 
 grudged the time it would take. It would be late 
 enough before he could reach Grace's if he went 
 direct from the station. However, there was noth- 
 ing else to do. This settled, he gave himself up to 
 the embarrassing problem of meeting Grace. As 
 her last words to him had expressed the desire of 
 never seeing him again, he could hardly say he 
 had just dropped in to see how her ankle was, 
 neither could he mention the doctor's intervention. 
 He knit his brows in perplexity, but by the time 
 
THE BOOMERANG 273 
 
 the train was drawing near Elmford he had in- 
 vented an opening that seemed satisfactory. 
 
 Grace could be counted on to greet him with a 
 chilly "How do you do?" After this he would be- 
 gin: "I wanted to speak to you about last night, 
 Grace. As I told you in my letter I 'm sorry that 
 I forgot myself and acted as no gentleman should." 
 
 There was nothing she could object to in this. 
 Then he would go on more boldly. "I can't keep 
 my promise not to bother you again. It means too 
 much to me. Never since that afternoon when you 
 let me know you cared for me have I ever thought 
 of any one else. If I could only make you un- 
 derstand that everything I am, or hope to be, be- 
 longs to you, that all my happiness is just in doing 
 for you and caring for you and loving you, I would 
 die happy. I know I have bothered you and been 
 jealous without any real reason and I 'm sorry, for 
 I want you always to have your own friends and 
 that sort of thing, but I believe now that if you 
 will only let things be as they were before I sha'n't 
 be jealous and unreasonable any more. I have 
 had my lesson, Grace, and I want now to care for 
 you in the way you want me to. Will you give me 
 another chance?" 
 
 At this, he pictured Grace softening and her won- 
 derful smile breaking out. "I '11 try to forgive 
 
274 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 you, Budd, for last night," she would say. 
 "You 've made me very unhappy, but 
 
 And then would come his opportunity. 
 
 He was aroused by the train stopping at Elm- 
 ford. 
 
 "I Ve ordered the car to be here," he said to 
 Virginia. "I '11 run you home, but we '11 have to 
 hurry for I 've got some business to attend to 
 afterwards." 
 
 "But I can get a taxi," she urged. 
 
 He shook his head, insisted on taking her little 
 bag, and led the way out. As he stepped down 
 upon the platform he stopped short, and a thrill 
 ran through him. He saw Mrs. Tyler getting off 
 the car ahead. Her mother had been upon the 
 same train. It was an omen. His impulse was 
 to rush up to her, but he checked himself, realiz- 
 ing that it would consume precious moments. Just 
 then Hunter, his mother's chauffeur, appeared and 
 took the bags, and at the same moment he saw Mrs. 
 Tyler's chauffeur making his way to Mrs. Tyler. 
 She was being looked out for, so he turned sharply 
 and, beckoning to Virginia, followed Hunter to the 
 automobile. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, having left Virginia at his 
 mother's house, the car drew up in front of the 
 
THE BOOMERANG 275 
 
 Tylers'. He looked nervously at his watch. It 
 was a quarter past six. The question now was 
 whether Grace would be home. He rang the bell. 
 As the maid opened the door, he heard the rustle 
 of a woman's dress and distinctly saw Grace cross 
 the hall and enter the library. She wore a hat 
 and had evidently just come in. 
 
 "Please tell Miss Tyler that Mr. Woodbridge 
 wishes to see her," he said tremulously. 
 
 The maid, who was new, gazed at him mildly 
 and withdrew. 
 
 He began running over the discourse that he 
 had prepared. "I wanted to speak to you about 
 last night. As I told you in my letter " he re- 
 peated. The lump in his throat was making articu- 
 lation difficult. He saw the maid reappear in the 
 hall and come toward him. He braced himself. 
 In another moment he would be in the library face 
 to face with all that made life worth living. 
 
 The maid reached him. 
 
 "Miss Tyler says she is sorry, but she has just 
 come from the station where she was meeting her 
 mother, and begs to be excused." 
 
 Unaware that she had uttered the mandates of 
 life and death, the maid passed him and opened 
 the door. 
 
276 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Mechanically he passed out, his hat still in his 
 hand. A "Hello, Budd," sounded in his ears, and 
 he saw Preston De Witt mounting the steps. 
 
 "Hello," he muttered, and went on to the wait- 
 ing car. The chauffeur pressed the self-starter, 
 hut the engine failed to start. Budd saw the 
 front door open and Preston go in. 
 
 "Something is the matter with the battery," the 
 chauffeur announced after another effort. "I 
 guess I '11 have to crank." Three minutes elapsed 
 before he had the engine going. Preston still re- 
 mained in the house. Then the car started, and 
 they moved down the street. As they turned the 
 corner two blocks beyond, Budd looked back, but 
 saw no sign of Preston. Grace had received him. 
 There was no doubt about it. Meeting her mother 
 at the station was not a reason for sending him 
 away. Suddenly it flashed upon him that Grace 
 had seen him get off the train with Virginia and 
 drive away with her. If Preston had not been 
 there, he would have gone back and insisted upon 
 an explanation. As it was, the only thing to do 
 was to go home. If the doctor had really fixed 
 things for him once again, he had thoroughly 
 muddled them. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 BUDD'S supposition that Grace had seen him 
 get off the train and drive away with Vir- 
 ginia was entirely correct. In an instant her sus- 
 picions as to Jerry's double-dealing were con- 
 firmed. Budd was a cad again, Jerry a deceiver; 
 the whole world was against her. Not unnaturally, 
 therefore, when Budd was announced she was out- 
 raged at the insolence of such a proceeding. 
 
 As the front door closed on him Grace came out 
 of the library and started up-stairs. Meanwhile the 
 maid had admitted Preston. They met face to face. 
 She was not sorry to see him. She knew that Budd 
 must know he was there. If she still had the power 
 to hurt, she was going to use it, and at all events 
 Preston could cover her defeat. 
 
 "Come in," she said. "I was just going to take 
 off my hat. Do you want some tea?" 
 
 "No tea," he answered. "I can only stop a 
 minute. I came in to see you about our golf to- 
 morrow." He followed her into the drawing-room 
 and dropped into a chair. 
 
 "Don't tell me you 're going to chuck." 
 
 "I 'm afraid I '11 have to," he answered. "Hon- 
 
 277 
 
278 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 estly, I 'm simply loaded up with work. My desk 
 looks as if an avalanche had buried it." 
 
 She laughed mockingly. 
 
 "You 've got to do better than that." 
 
 "It's the honest fact," he protested. "Mr. 
 Grant is away at Bar Harbor, Bruce Gordon is in 
 town, and the whole office is upside down." 
 
 "Is Bruce Gordon a client?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "For all that," she said, "I 've never known you 
 to let business interfere with golf. I guess the 
 stories that I hear must be true." 
 
 "What stories?" 
 
 "I feel very much hurt," she went on. "I 
 thought that naturally I 'd be the first one you 'd 
 tell about it and now I find out that for two weeks 
 you 've been busy and not a word." 
 
 "This town is some place for news," observed 
 Preston, cautiously. 
 
 "I saw her last night," Grace continued. "I 
 thought she was lovely." 
 
 "I don't see that you need to be told anything," 
 he said grimly. 
 
 "Oh, my, we 've only begun!" cried Grace. "In 
 the first place, I want to know how you met her? I 
 never supposed that you were very intimate with 
 the Woodbridges." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 279 
 
 "Are you kiddin'?" 
 
 "Not in the least. I want to know. I suppose 
 you '11 say it was business." 
 
 "It was." 
 
 "So she 's a client too?" 
 
 "In a way." 
 
 "But I thought she was a penniless, self-support- 
 ing nurse. People like that don't go to you." 
 
 Preston looked at her and laughed. 
 
 "Can you keep a secret?" 
 
 "I 'm a tomb, as you ought to know." 
 
 "Well, as they say in melodrama, she's not 
 what she appears to be. The fact is she 's a long- 
 lost orphan or, rather, the long-mislaid niece of a 
 prosperous uncle." 
 
 "And the uncle?" 
 
 "The uncle happens to be Bruce Gordon." 
 
 Grace gasped. The significance of this an- 
 nouncement was the same to her as it had been to 
 Jerry. She knew Preston too well to have any 
 doubt as to his probable intentions toward Bruce 
 Gordon's niece. The possibility that, after all, 
 Jerry had told her the truth flashed upon her. 
 
 "But I never heard of such a thing!" she 
 cried. 
 
 "One rarely does hear of such a thing," he said 
 quietly. 
 
280 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "But how was she discovered?" 
 
 "Well, it seems that her mother married a Swiss 
 rather against the wishes of the family and died 
 soon after the daughter was born. Two or three 
 years later her father was killed in a railway acci- 
 dent, and the girl was brought up by his sister. 
 The sister married recently, as women sometimes 
 do, and the girl decided to seek her fortune and 
 hunt up her grandmother. When she got to Elm- 
 ford she found that Grandmother Gordon was a 
 blessed memory. Apparently she had never heard 
 of Uncle Bruce, and funds being low, she started 
 in to support herself. She got a job in Sumner's 
 office and, rumor has it, was installed by him at 
 the Woodbridges' to revive Budd from a hitherto 
 unsuspected attack of the pip." 
 
 They exchanged glances, and Preston went on: 
 
 "Mrs. Woodbridge, who had known her mother, 
 was struck by the resemblance of the girl to her 
 old friend, questioned her, and the story came out. 
 Mr. Gordon was notified, proofs of identity were 
 sent on, and to-day Miss Xelva went to New York 
 to see him. After the manner of the great, he 
 took it into his head to come to Elmford without 
 letting us know about the change of plans; so they 
 crossed on the road, and I 've had the pleasant job 
 of explaining how it was all my fault. I 've tele- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 281 
 
 phoned her to take the first train back. So I hope 
 that by this time all is well." 
 
 "Did Budd take her to New York?" Grace asked 
 shortly. 
 
 "I don't think so. As far as I know no one knew 
 she was going. The ridiculous girl was not at all 
 sure that she wanted to see or have anything to do 
 with Uncle Bruce; so she kept the whole matter very 
 quiet." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 "You can search me. Mrs. Woodbridge tells 
 me that she 's very much interested in her work as 
 
 a nurse." 
 
 Grace shot him a sudden look. 
 
 "I see," she observed. "She 's the new type 
 that wants to be free and self-supporting." 
 
 "Something like that," he assented. 
 
 "Well, isn't this wonderful!" said Grace, 
 sweetly. "And besides being rich, she 's so delight- 
 ful, Really, Preston, it makes me believe that 
 these things are really arranged in heaven." 
 
 "I think that 's enough," he said shortly. "Of 
 course I 've only known Miss Xelva in a business 
 way, but I 've seen enough of her to make me 
 realize that she 's a very fine person, and I don't 
 want to be joshed about her." 
 
 "Joshed?" repeated Grace, "Don't think for a 
 
282 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 minute I 'm joshing. It 's all too wonderful. 
 Why, it 's like a miracle. Just the right girl for 
 you drops out of the skies, and you fall in love 
 with her and she with you wedding bells and 
 curtain. It 's perfect. No wonder you can't play 
 golf with me to-morrow." 
 
 "Suppose we change the subject," said Preston, 
 firmly. "Speaking of other things, I met Budd 
 as I came in. I hope you gave him a good time." 
 
 "Speaking of Budd," she answered calmly, 
 "are n't you a little worried at having him in the 
 same house with her?" 
 
 Preston laughed heartily a circumstance which 
 gave Grace a satisfaction of which the laugher was 
 unaware. 
 
 "Yes, I 'm worried," he said, "but I 'm bearing 
 up. You ought not to make me laugh that way," 
 he added. "Poor little Budd! He isn't a bad 
 fellow at that. You 've handed it to him pretty 
 raw, Grace. Why don't you let him go away and 
 get over it?" 
 
 Grace's eyes flashed dangerously, but she smiled. 
 
 "I 'm glad you like him." 
 
 "Of course I like him," he answered patroniz- 
 ingly. "Why should n't I?" 
 
 "Well, then, I '11 tell you something," she went 
 on. "There 's more good in Budd's little finger 
 
THE BOOMERANG 283 
 
 than in your whole body. You're clever and 
 amusing, but you 're cold-blooded as a fish. 
 Heaven help the woman that marries you!" 
 
 "But why the anger?" he asked, with an aston- 
 ished look. "What have I done? Wrath makes 
 you very beautiful, but even that should n't be al- 
 lowed to blind your judgment. The fish, my dear, 
 is a model husband, clean, never in the way, never 
 jealous. To be called a fish is a compliment. 
 It's almost a pity you didn't decide to marry 
 me," he added gaily. "You would have grown to 
 prize my finny charms. 
 
 She looked at him scornfully. How could a 
 girl, able to choose between such a man and a 
 brave, clean, simple-hearted boy like Budd, hesi- 
 tate? With a sense of alarm it occurred to her 
 that Virginia might also have arrived at a simi- 
 lar conclusion. 
 
 "I suppose it is a pity," she observed, repressing 
 the comment that was on her tongue. "However, 
 life is full of just such tragedies." 
 
 He sighed ironically and rose. 
 "I must be going. Perhaps we can get some golf 
 next week. I '11 telephone if I can get a free after- 
 noon. 
 
 "It would be nice," she said icily and bade him 
 good night. 
 
284 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 When he had gone Grace stood in the empty 
 room, rigid, her breath coming fast. Suddenly, 
 like a sleep-walker, she turned with measured 
 steps and went up-stairs. She closed the door of 
 her room behind her and took the telephone re- 
 ceiver from the hook. The number she called 
 answered. 
 
 "Hartley," she said, "I want to speak to Mr. 
 Budd." She waited tensely. A voice came over 
 the wire. 
 
 "Is that you, Budd?" she asked in low, tremu- 
 lous tones. 
 
 The voice, equally tremulous, assured her that it 
 was. "Budd dear," she went on, "I was sorry not 
 to see you just now. Can you come in after din- 
 ner?" 
 
 A stammered question was asked. 
 
 "Yes, of course I shall be alone. You '11 
 come?" 
 
 As the answer reached her she laughed nerv- 
 ously. 
 
 "You dear!" she murmured. "At eight." 
 
 She replaced the receiver and sat gazing with 
 unseeing eyes through the window that commanded 
 the old garden. The dusk fell and deepened, and 
 still she sat till her mother's maid knocked and 
 asked her what she would wear for dinner. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 WHEN Jerry turned his car toward the open 
 country he was in much the same situation 
 as the gentleman of the song, who with no definite 
 idea of a terminus was "on his way." As his 
 speed ranged from thirty to sixty miles an hour 
 in defiance of both law and public safety, he was 
 likely to arrive somewhere, if only in a jail or a 
 hospital. The fact was that he was obeying a 
 blind impulse to get away from Elmf ord, much as 
 Budd had obeyed a similar impulse earlier in the 
 day. And it was a sudden recognition of this an- 
 alogy that restored to him a measure of reasonable- 
 ness. 
 
 "Think of me giving the kid advice!" he mut- 
 tered. "Some nerve, eh?" He laughed despite 
 himself. When a man can laugh he has taken the 
 first step toward getting his troubles in hand. 
 
 He eased down to forty as a maximum and con- 
 tinued over a lonely stretch of hill country, com- 
 muning with himself upon the futility of human 
 wisdom in general and his own in particular. As 
 he climbed a long grade, a sudden report, followed 
 
 by an ominous bumping, caused him to pull up by 
 
 285 
 
286 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 the side of the road, and he got out to confront the 
 broken tire. A prolonged period of exercise with 
 a leaky pump stiffened his philosophy more than 
 the new tire. If Virginia was lost to him, she was 
 lost. Life had to go on, and the sooner he picked 
 up the dropped stitches the sooner his individual 
 piece of knitting would be in order. That was all 
 there was to it. He got the tube inflated to the 
 point where it would carry him to the next garage, 
 put his tools away, and wiped his hands with a 
 piece of waste. Before starting the car again, he 
 re-read Marchbank's letter. 
 
 There was something in the fateful opportune- 
 ness of Marchy's arrival and the Wyoming project 
 that cheered him. The universe had not over- 
 looked him entirely. Engaged in such reflections, 
 the possibility of running down to New York and 
 bringing Marchbanks back to Elmford suddenly oc- 
 curred to him. He looked at his watch, ran on 
 to the next village, and, making inquiries as to his 
 whereabouts, found that he was within twelve miles 
 of Bridgeport. He had his tire blown up, filled 
 his gasolene tank, and set out. A little before five 
 he drew up before a hotel in Manhattan. Five 
 minutes later with the assistance of a page he dis- 
 covered the illustrious Marchbanks, solitary, par- 
 taking of tea and muffins in the palm garden. 
 
THE BOOMERANG 287 
 
 Except in Latin countries, where men kiss each 
 other, and in novels, the ceremony of greeting be- 
 tween long-parted friends is apt to be disappoint- 
 ing. Marchbanks set down his tea-cup with delib- 
 eration. 
 
 "Well, I '11 be blessed!" he observed. 
 
 "Cut out this muffin business," said Jerry, "and 
 get a bag packed. We '11 get to Elmford for din- 
 ner. I 've got a car outside." 
 
 "Does it mean Wyoming?" 
 
 Jerry nodded, and with a regretful glance at the 
 abandoned tea-table Marchbanks rose and fol- 
 lowed his captor. Fifteen minutes later they were 
 off. As they got clear of the city and sped north- 
 ward, Marchbanks began a laconic recital of his 
 adventures since the night of their parting in Lu- 
 cerne. 
 
 "A simple, sordid tale," he concluded. "And 
 now it 's your turn. As I understand it, you 've 
 become a decent, industrious, country doctor." 
 
 "All of that," said Jerry. 
 
 "And still single?" 
 
 Jerry nodded. 
 
 Marchbanks yawned. 
 
 "It was a great pity you did n't stop and marry 
 the girl with the wounded aunt. She was really 
 a nice girl. Mildway saw her again the next day. 
 
288 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 X 
 
 He was for looking up the consul and getting pre- 
 sented to her people. I would n't have it, though. 
 Seemed disloyal to you. You ought to go back 
 this winter and finish it up." 
 
 "Perhaps I will," said Jerry. 
 
 "I 'm serious about it," observed Marchbanks, 
 ducking down behind the windshield to light a 
 cigarette. "I 've changed a lot about that sort of 
 thing take it seriously now. Believe a man ought 
 to marry and settle down." 
 
 "Did this occur to you on the steamer?" asked 
 Jerry, significantly. 
 
 Marchbanks grinned. 
 
 "Well, I wouldn't say that; only as a general 
 principle I 'm for it." 
 
 "As a general principle it's rot!" said Jerry, 
 savagely. 
 
 "God bless me!" said Marchbanks, looking at 
 him in surprise. "I did n't know you were a 
 woman-hater. Is this the result of medicine or 
 life in Elmford?" 
 
 "It 's common sense," said Jerry. Then chang- 
 ing the subject with some abruptness, he demanded, 
 "What are you going to shoot with, an American 
 30-30 or a Lee-Metford?" 
 
 "I don't know," Marchbanks answered vaguely. 
 "I 've got a lot of stuff in my kit. I '11 get you to 
 
THE BOOMERANG 289 
 
 pick me out the right thing. But, I say, why do 
 you announce it 's common sense?" 
 
 "What else is it?" 
 
 Marchbanks gazed at him doubtfully and made 
 no rejoinder. A moment later he tossed his ciga- 
 rette away, put up the collar of his overcoat, and 
 withdrew into his own thoughts. 
 
 The dusk had begun to fall. Jerry bent for- 
 ward, turned on the headlights and, pressing his 
 foot on the accelerator, watched the speed climb up 
 till the indicator hung trembling close to fifty. 
 The miles sped by. Village after village was 
 passed and left behind. The tires held up, the 
 engine ran like clockwork, and at half past seven 
 the two motorists drew up before the lighted win- 
 dows of the old Sumner mansion. 
 
 "We 're here," said Jerry, shortly. "While I 
 think of it, you needn't mention Wyoming till I 
 tip you off. I have n't broken it to the governor." 
 
 Marchbanks nodded. 
 
 "Perhaps I ought to explain a little more about 
 this expedition. Of course the shooting is to be 
 the main thing, but you won't mind if we run down 
 for a bit to a place called Cheyenne?" 
 
 "I think I should mind a good deal," said Jerry. 
 "Why Cheyenne?" 
 
 "Well," said Marchbanks, with an evident effort, 
 
290 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "you see, that girl you spoke about my meetin 9 on 
 the ship lives out there." 
 
 Jerry stopped with the latch-key in the keyhole 
 and stared at him. 
 
 "Her people were very decent," Marchbanks 
 went on. "Asked me to look 'em up if I was ever 
 passing through." 
 
 "You poor mutt!" said Jerry, hopelessly. "So 
 that 's how it is?" 
 
 "Well, something like that," said Marchbanks. 
 "Don't think I 'm backing out about the shootin', 
 but why can't we do both?" 
 
 "Marchy," said Jerry, soberly, "you never 
 can do both! Cut it out. You 're making the 
 great mistake of your life. Let 's switch to New 
 Brunswick and have a go at moose." 
 
 "You 're not going to go back on me?" March- 
 banks cried in alarm. 
 
 "I 'm going to take you shooting," Jerry an- 
 swered, "and nothing else. When you know what 
 I know, you '11 bless me to the end of time." With 
 that he opened the door and ushered in his guest. 
 
 The unexpected arrival of the Hon. Marchbanks 
 produced an atmosphere of festivity at dinner, and 
 Jerry was grateful, although he was in anything 
 but a festive state of mind himself. Marion ap- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 291 
 
 peared in a new gown, and Marchbanks enter- 
 tained the company with hitherto unrelated chap- 
 ters of Jerry's adventures abroad. He and Marion 
 seemed to hit it off from the start, a circumstance 
 that kept the conversational ball rolling without as- 
 sistance from Jerry. As a consequence he was 
 able to occupy himself with his own thoughts with- 
 out being noticeably distrait. One thing that per- 
 plexed him was the apparent disappearance of 
 Bruce Gordon. He had expected to find him din- 
 ing with his father. 
 
 Jerry surmised that Virginia had been directed 
 to return to Elmford, and he was anxious to know 
 the result of her meeting with her uncle, but as 
 Colonel Sumner made no mention of the matter he 
 could only wait. After dinner the three men with- 
 drew to the library to smoke. Marion went to the 
 drawing-room and began playing the piano. Al- 
 most immediately Marchbanks manifested signs of 
 preferring music to male society and, laying his 
 cigar on the ash-tray, disappeared. Shortly after- 
 wards there issued from the drawing-room acoustic 
 evidence of ragtime duets. 
 
 "He plays very well," the colonel observed be- 
 nignly, unfolding his newspaper. "A nice boy." 
 
 "Don't judge him by his box-beating," Jerry 
 
292 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 answered. "He 's a better fellow than that. All 
 he needs is work, and from what he tells me I fancy 
 he 's going to get it." 
 
 "I don't suppose work hurts any of us," said the 
 colonel, with a smile. He glanced over his glasses 
 with a look of pride at his son. 
 
 Jerry made no answer. He realized that to an- 
 nounce that he was leaving his newly established 
 practice for a month's shooting was not going to be 
 easy. 
 
 "Bruce Gordon was very much pleased at the 
 way you have taken hold," the colonel went on. 
 "By the way, you disappeared very suddenly after 
 lunch. He wanted to talk to you about the hos- 
 pital. You see, he had to stop over to see Vir- 
 ginia." 
 
 "She 's come back?" 
 
 "Yes. He telephoned the office in New York. 
 He 's at Caroline Woodbridge's, dining with her. 
 She must be rather a remarkable girl," the colonel 
 continued. "From what he told me it seems that 
 it was n't so much a question of whether he would 
 accept the responsibilities of uncle as whether she 
 would accept the emoluments of niece. Appar- 
 ently she had more than half a mind to go on sup- 
 porting herself with what she called her 'work.' I 
 think Bruce was actually as nervous about making 
 
THE BOOMERANG 293 
 
 a good impression on her as a fellow who 's going 
 to propose." The colonel laughed and began to 
 read his paper. 
 
 Jerry rose, crossed the room, came back, and 
 dropped into his chair again. What if the girl 
 really did take it into her head to refuse to accept 
 anything from her uncle? He knew she was quite 
 capable of doing it if it seemed the right thing for 
 her to do. If such a thing actually happened and 
 she roused Bruce Gordon's anger, was it not more 
 than likely that Preston would hold off? At least 
 the probabilities would be that an immediate mar- 
 riage would be out of the question. The idea 
 seemed absurd, yet he could not help a wild hope 
 rising again. 
 
 He began turning over in his mind a way of find- 
 ing out the result of the meeting at the Wood- 
 bridges'. Doubtless by now it was all settled. 
 Mrs. Woodbridge would know, but he could not 
 very well ring her up and ask her. 
 
 He seized the other evening paper and forced 
 himself to read it for ten minutes. Then he tossed 
 it aside, rose, and got himself a fresh cigar. As he 
 was biting off the end, he heard an automobile 
 drive up, and stop with a creaking of brakes. It 
 might be Gordon returning to tell of his failure. 
 He stood breathless, struck a match, then cursed 
 
294 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 himself for a fool. The thing he was hoping for 
 was unthinkable, and yet The front door-bell 
 sounded faintly from the depths of the house. In 
 all probability it was some friend of Marion's run- 
 ning in. He dropped into his arm-chair and 
 puffed at the partly ignited tobacco. He heard the 
 door open and then a heavy tread in the hall. The 
 next moment the huge form of Bruce Gordon filled 
 the doorway. 
 
 Colonel Sumner leaped to his feet. 
 
 "Well! well!" he cried, "everything all right? 
 Sit down and tell us about it." 
 
 "I 'm catching the nine-thirty to town," said 
 Gordon, refusing a chair. "I thought I 'd look in 
 for a minute and say good night." 
 
 "Don't tell me you've been rejected?" the 
 colonel cried, laughing. 
 
 The big man smiled grimly. 
 
 "That 's a fine girl, Addison. But obstinate 
 
 as" 
 
 "As you are," suggested the colonel. 
 
 Gordon tried to scowl, but ended in a gruff 
 chuckle. 
 
 "I tell you I 've had some battle, Addison. If 
 any one should tell you that child has n't a mind of 
 her own, don't believe it. I wouldn't want her 
 on a hostile board of directors." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 295 
 
 "But what was the matter? Her work?" 
 
 "That was part of it. Principally though, she 
 seems to have an unalterable objection to leaving 
 Elmf ord. I '11 be hanged if in the end I did n't 
 have to compromise on letting her spend half her 
 time here. As she 's only lived here a month, I 
 don't understand it, unless " 
 
 "Unless what?" demanded the colonel. 
 
 "Oh, nothing," the financier answered. "We 've 
 got it patched up. I want you, though, to keep an 
 eye on her when she 's here." 
 
 "Why did n't you bring her to this house, bag 
 and baggage?" the colonel demanded. 
 
 "You can settle that with her and Caroline," 
 was the answer. 
 
 "We '11 go down and get her this minute. I '11 
 order the car." 
 
 "You won't have much luck to-night," said Gor- 
 don, with a wry face. "She 's got a young man 
 camping in the parlor. I suspect her interest in 
 Elmf ord might be accounted for by investigations 
 in that direction. However, it 's none of my busi- 
 ness. Good-by. I want you to come and see me 
 the first of next week, young man," he added, with 
 a menacing gesture at Jerry. Then he was gone. 
 
 The ragtime, which had died down with the ring- 
 ing of the door-bell, started up again. 
 
296 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "Well! well!" said the colonel, benevolently, 
 "isn't that splendid? Who do you suppose he 
 meant by the young man camping in the parlor?" 
 
 "I don't know," answered Jerry and picked up 
 the newspaper again. The drowning man's straw 
 had gone under as, of course, he knew it would. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE counsel that the night brought to Jerry de- 
 cided him to pack his kit and start west with 
 scant explanation or ceremony. The hospital 
 could wait. There were plenty of young doctors 
 in Elmford who would take charge of his practice 
 for a consideration. To his father he would plead 
 a long-standing engagement with Marchbanks for 
 a big-game expedition. The colonel had taken a 
 liking to Marchbanks and would be likely to accede 
 to the view that hospitality demanded sacrifices. 
 
 The breakfast-table gaiety of Marion and the 
 guest appeared to Jerry unseemly, but he bore it 
 with fortitude till Marchbanks began on a third 
 helping of marmalade. At this point he rose and 
 lighted a cigarette. 
 
 "I think I '11 leave you children," he said, "and 
 when you can tear yourself from this scene of glut- 
 tony," he added to the colonel, "I 'd like to speak to 
 you for a minute. I '11 be in the library." 
 
 As he passed through the hall, Emile appeared 
 in the doorway leading to the offices. 
 
 "Could you see Mr. Woodbridge?" he asked. 
 
 297 
 
298 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "He say he was sorry to come before office hour, 
 but he was very anxious to see you." 
 
 Jerry hesitated and then turned sharply. 
 
 "I '11 see him," he answered. "Bring him into 
 my office." 
 
 As he seated himself at his desk, there was a 
 clatter in the hall, and Budd, beaming and con- 
 ducting himself much like a St. Bernard puppy 
 with a dog biscuit, burst in. 
 
 "It 's all right!" he shouted and, seizing Jerry by 
 the hand, began to pump it up and down. 
 
 "I presume this demonstration indicates that you 
 are open to congratulations," observed Jerry. 
 
 "It surely does," said Budd. "I came back just 
 as you advised me to, and last night " 
 
 "She proposed to you." 
 
 "Well, I '11 be hanged! How did you know 
 that?" 
 
 Jerry laughed. 
 
 "That must be a secret because, while ladies very 
 often do it, they don't like to have it talked about." 
 
 "Of course she did n't really ask me to marry 
 her," said Budd. 
 
 "Of course not," said Jerry. "And, after all, the 
 only thing that matters is that it 's done. Well, 
 my son," he went on, "I wish you luck, lots of it 
 and for always." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 299 
 
 "We both of us feel as if we owed it all to you," 
 the boy said shyly. "You 're the only person out- 
 side the family we 've told." 
 
 "Stuff!" said Jerry. 
 
 "But it 's the fact! If it was n't for that serum 
 that went after the jealousy bugs and the good 
 advice you gave me I guess I 'd have been in the 
 discard by now. You 're a wonderful man, 
 Doctor!" 
 
 "Now, look here!" Jerry began. For a moment 
 he considered disclosing the nature of the serum 
 and the general futility of human reason as applied 
 to Budd's complaint. 
 
 "But there is n't any doubt about it," Budd in- 
 terrupted. "It's all due to you. You don't re- 
 alize what it is to have helped a fellow out of the 
 muss I was in. You see, very few men understand 
 that sort of thing the way you do." 
 
 Jerry sat back helplessly in his chair. What 
 could he say? 
 
 "I'm glad you're happy!" he mumbled. 
 "She 's a fine girl." 
 
 "The best," assented Budd. He glanced at his 
 watch and grinned. "I 'm late," he added. 
 "She 's expecting me at ten, and I 've got to hustle 
 down to the florist's first. This being really en- 
 gaged is some responsibility!" He turned to go, 
 
300 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 but suddenly stopped. The door had swung open, 
 and standing in the doorway was Virginia. She 
 looked inquiringly from one to the other. 
 
 "Am I interrupting?" she asked. 
 
 "Budd has just been telling me he 's engaged," 
 said Jerry, with an effort to be casual. 
 
 Virginia uttered an exclamation of delight. 
 
 Budd grinned. 
 
 "Of course I want you to know, Virgie," he said 
 doubtfully, "but I really ought not to be talking to 
 you. You see, she does n't want me to. She thinks 
 you and I were in love with each other. That 's 
 what made her cry the other night." 
 
 "But surely you've told her!" said Virginia, 
 somewhat anxiously. 
 
 "Of course I have, and she says she believes me, 
 but just the same she does n't want me to see much 
 of you." 
 
 A peal of mirthless laughter burst from Jerry. 
 
 "Is n't it the helping hand that always gets 
 burned?" he shouted. "Of course you know it was 
 Miss Xelva that pulled your chestnuts out of the 
 fire," he went on to Budd. "This is a nice way to 
 thank her for it." 
 
 "But what can I do?" Budd asked, helplessly 
 turning to Virginia. "You wait till you 're actu- 
 ally engaged and you '11 understand all right." 
 
THE BOOMERANG 301 
 
 Jerry's quick eye noted a deepening of the girl's 
 color. 
 
 "Budd, I can only congratulate you and wish 
 you every happiness, and," she added, "avoid con- 
 taminating you." 
 
 He took her offered hand, shook it gingerly, and 
 bounded out. 
 
 When they were alone, she stood a moment in 
 silence. Their eyes met, and then shifted their 
 gaze. 
 
 "Well, that's settled," said Jerry, grimly. 
 "Our first case and, I suppose, our last." 
 
 "It was very wonderful the way you treated it," 
 she said soberly. "I confess I did n't believe you 
 were right at the beginning, but it turned out just as 
 you said it would. You have a very extraordinary 
 understanding of that sort of thing." 
 
 "I 'm a damned fool!" said Jerry, vehemently. 
 
 She looked at him in surprise, but a surprise that 
 might not have carried conviction to a disinterested 
 observer. 
 
 "I don't think I understand," she said meekly. 
 "I feel as if I ought to apologize for questioning 
 what you told me the night of the dance." 
 
 "You mean about love being a game?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "I 've been thinking a great deal about it." 
 
302 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 "You 'd better forget it!" said Jerry, savagely. 
 "It 'sail infernal rot!" 
 
 "Why, Dr. Sumner!" the girl exclaimed. 
 
 "What I told you is all stuff and nonsense," he 
 repeated. 
 
 "But I don't understand what has changed your 
 opinions so quickly," she said, dropping her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Listen to me, Virginia," he began. "This love 
 business is a serious proposition. One can't afford 
 to play at it. I have n't any right to lecture you or 
 to volunteer any advice, but don't make any mis- 
 take about what I 've just told you." 
 
 She glanced at him from under her lashes, and a 
 faint smile flashed in her eyes. 
 
 "Of course you 're probably right," she said 
 vaguely, "but I mustn't take your time talking 
 about such inconsequential things. I ran in this 
 morning to get some books I 'd left and to tell you 
 something. I wanted you to be the first to know 
 outside of Mrs. Woodbridge." 
 
 "Well?" he said desperately. He gripped the 
 arms of the chair. It occurred to him that if he 
 were facing a firing-squad, his emotions would be 
 similar to those he was undergoing. 
 
 "Well," she began, "it's a great surprise. It 
 seems that my mother's brother is Mr. Bruce Gor- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 303 
 
 don. He 's been very kind and wants me to live 
 with him in New York." 
 
 "I know about that," he said casually. "Go 
 
 on." 
 
 She gazed at him this time in an amazement that 
 was unquestionably genuine. 
 
 "But that 's all," she answered. "I feel that I 
 ought to spend part of the year with him; at the 
 same time I want to go on with my work in Elm- 
 ford." She studied his face in the silence that fol- 
 lowed. "What did you expect me to tell you?" she 
 demanded. 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Yes, you did," she said quickly. "What is 
 it?" 
 
 He met her look frankly. 
 
 "Do you want me to be honest?" 
 
 "Of course I do." 
 
 "Then I '11 tell you. It 's only this: I want to 
 be the first to be told when when there is some- 
 thing to be told about you and Preston." 
 
 "About me and Mr. De Witt!" she cried incred- 
 ulously. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But, you silly man!" she burst out, "there never 
 could be anything of that kind! You don't sup- 
 pose I could take Mr. De Witt seriously?" 
 
304 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 He stared at her, his mouth open, his mind in- 
 capable of comprehending what his ears told him. 
 Then he rose slowly like a man recovering from a 
 blow on the head. 
 
 "Virginia," he said huskily, "you have n't been 
 playing this love game with me?" 
 
 "I consider that a most improper question," she 
 answered, with mock defiance. Her eyes were 
 shining. A mysterious radiance seemed to ema- 
 nate from her and clothe her like an aureole. 
 
 "What do you mean by coming here?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "Have n't I a right to come to a doctor's office?" 
 she retorted. "How do you know but what I came 
 to get a serum treatment?" She stood before him, 
 smiling tremulously, her eyes half closed and 
 misty. 
 
 "Virginia, you miserable deceiver!" he cried, 
 "you know that I love you! You've known it 
 right along!" 
 
 She made no denial. Her mocking smile had 
 gone. She met his look with eyes grave and ten- 
 der. He went forward and opened his arms. She 
 stood her ground, and they closed about her. 
 
 Ten minutes later they were sitting side by side 
 upon the sofa. The first wave of passion that had 
 
THE BOOMERANG 305 
 
 held them speechless was passing. He found his 
 voice again. 
 
 "And there never was any Preston De Witt?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Never," she answered; "only you." 
 
 "God bless you!" he muttered. 
 
 "You believe me, I suppose, like Grace, but you 
 don't want me to talk to him?" she said, laughing. 
 
 "Rub it in. I deserve it," he answered. He 
 stopped as he heard a voice from the passage that 
 led to the house calling, "0 Jerry!" 
 
 "It 's Marchbanks," he explained, "an old friend 
 of mine. He 's just blown in from England." 
 Then he answered the hail. 
 
 A moment later Marchbanks burst in, took one 
 look at Virginia, and stood rooted, amazement 
 written on his countenance. 
 
 "Miss Xelva," said Jerry, "let me present my 
 friend Mr. Marchbanks." 
 
 Marchbanks bowed low. 
 
 "This is a pleasure long deferred," he said 
 calmly. "If I could have managed it I should have 
 been presented that day we were fellow-travelers 
 on the Lucerne train. Jerry, you miserable fox," 
 he added, "how have you stage-managed this situa- 
 tion?" 
 
306 THE BOOMERANG 
 
 Jerry and Virginia gazed dumfounded, first at 
 Marchbanks, then at each other. 
 
 "Were you the girl who put her hand out and 
 took my toothache pills?" Jerry demanded. 
 
 Virginia nodded. Without speaking, she 
 dropped back upon the sofa again, her eyes fixed 
 on him. 
 
 "God bless me!" cried Marchbanks, with crude, 
 but well-meant, strategy, "I 've forgotten my cig- 
 arette-case!" He darted back to the house. 
 
 "It 's so strange," Virginia murmured. "That 
 day I first came to the office I knew your voice. I 
 thought I thought," she went on haltingly, "it 
 must have been that I 'd known it in some other 
 life." 
 
 "Perhaps that, too, is so," said Jerry, soberly. 
 "It would be no stranger. It would be much 
 less strange, in fact. It would account for so much 
 that no one understands." He bent down and 
 kissed her. 
 
 Naturally there was no Wyoming expedition. 
 Marchbanks bore the blow with a suspicious resig- 
 nation, and announced that he was so charmed with 
 Elmford that he contemplated getting a job in the 
 plow works, which he did. Budd and Grace were 
 married in November, and at the Yale-Harvard 
 game at New Haven were reported en route for Eu- 
 
THE BOOMERANG 307 
 
 rope. About the same time Preston De Witt ac- 
 cepted a junior partnership in New York, where his 
 urbane talents had a larger sphere of opportunity. 
 As for Jerry and Virginia, they were quietly mar- 
 ried at Bruce Gordon's, and shortly afterwards in- 
 stalled themselves in the old house at Elmford, 
 much to the joy of that good man and indulgent 
 parent, the colonel. 
 
 THE END 
 
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