Suddenly there was a commotion on the veranda as a carriage drove up with a handsome, gray-haired woman.

In the buzzing of voices around him Demorest heard the name of Mrs.Van Loo.

In further comments, made in more smothered accents, he heard that Van Loo had been stopped at Canyon Station, but that no warrant had yet been issued against him; that it was generally believed that the bank dared not hold him; that others openly averred that he had been used as a scapegoat to avert suspicion from higher guilt.

And certainly Mrs.Van Loo's calm, confident air seemed to corroborate these assertions.
He was still wondering if the strange coincidence which had brought both mother and son into his own life was not merely a fancy, as far as SHE was concerned, when a waiter brought a message from Mrs.Van Loo that she would be glad to see him for a few moments in her room.

Last night he could scarcely have restrained his eagerness to meet her and elucidate the mystery of the photograph; now he was conscious of an equally strong revulsion of feeling, and a dull premonition of evil.
However, it was no doubt possible that the man had told her of his previous inquiries, and she had merely acknowledged them by that message.
Demorest found Mrs.Van Loo in the private sitting-room where he and his old partners had supped on the preceding night.