fy and all power to make him disgorge."

He was pondering over the best way to reach Clayton, and had just
decided to wait after dark at the rooms for his old class-mate,
when he remembered the annual election.

"By Jove!" mused Witherspoon, now burning to with Francine Delacroix's
dowry from the enemy.

"Ferris will surely be nosing around here. I must not show myself
at Clayton's rooms. There are two ways: one to call him by telephone,
and the other is to telegraph to the Detroit Club and have the
Secretary then telegraph to Clayton to call at once at Room 586,
Hoffman, on 'Alpha Delta Phi' business. They might have a clerk on
at the telephone over at the office, and if I was asked who wants
Mr. Clayton, I might be trapped."

He suddenly remembered his last agreement with his prospective
client, that if anything unforeseen occurred, Clayton would write
or telegraph to his comrade at the Detroit Club, and so, Witherspoon
added a few words of direction to the secretary, to his request
that Clayton be bidden to an "Alpha Delta Phi" secret reunion at
Room 586, Hoffman.

Witherspoon had already purchased a week's file of the New York
journals in order to follow up the financial columns, and was
moving toward the elevator from the telegraph stand, when a boy
thrust an extra into his hand.

"Heavy Robbery by Absconding Cashier! Randall Clayton Lets the
Western Trading Company in for a Quarter of a Million. Another Case
of a Double Life!"

With a supreme effort the Detroit lawyer mastered himself and
sought the seclusion of his room. In ten minutes he had recovered
his legal acumen. The two columns of the extra gave a list of
the new officers of the company, and the statement that Mr. Hugh
Worthington was at Tacoma with his invalid daughter, was supplemented
by the statement that Arthur Ferris of Heath & Ferris, 105 Broad
Street (the recently elected vice-president), was in charge of the
whole situation.

When Jack Witherspoon had cooled his heated brows, he swore a deep
and mighty oath of vengeance. "I don't believe a word of this
whole rot," he stoutly said to himself. "Either Clayton has been
frightened off, and is waiting for me near Detroit, or they have
trapped him in some way. Something has brought things to a crisis.
And yet, I must handle Mr. Arthur Ferris with velvet gloves!"

He reflected now upon the imprudence of his registration at the
Hoffman. The railroad attorneyship had brought him in clos