the door of their flat, eager to know what success
he had; and at sight of her his spirits rose again, and he gave her an
enthusiastic synopsis of what he had done.

She flung herself on his knees, where he sat, and embraced him. "Ren,
you've done splendidly! And I know you'll beat the _Abstract_ clear out
of sight. Oh, Ren, Ren!" She threw her arms round his neck again, and
the happy tears started to her eyes. "This will give you any place on
the paper you choose to ask for! Oh, I'm the happiest girl in the
world."

Pinney gave her a joyful hug. "Yes, it's all right. There are
ninety-nine chances to one that he was going to Canada. There's a big
default, running up into the hundred thousands, and they gave him a
chance to make up his shortage--it's the old story. I've got just the
setting I wanted for my facts, and now, as soon as Manton gives us the
word to go ahead--"

"Wait till Manton gives the word!" cried Mrs. Pinney. "Well, you shall
do no such thing, Ren. We won't wait a minute."

Pinney broke out into a laugh, and gave her another hug for her
enthusiasm, and explained, between laughing at her and kissing her, why
he had to wait; that if he used the matter before the detective
authorized him, it would be the last tip he would ever get from Manton.
"We shan't lose anything. I'm going to commence writing it out, now. I'm
going to make it a work of art. Now, you go and get me some coffee, Hat.
There isn't going to be any let up on this till it's all blocked out,
any way; and I'm going to leave mighty few places to fill in, I can tell
you." He pulled off his coat, and sat down at his desk.

His wife stopped him. "You'd better come out into the kitchen, and work
on the table there. It's bigger than this desk."

"Don't know but I had," said Pinney. He gathered up his work and
followed her out into the cosy little kitchen, where she cooked their
simple meals, and they ate them. "Been living on tea since I been gone?"
He pulled open the refrigerator built into the wall, and glanced into
it. "Last night's dinner all there yet!"

"You know I don't care to eat when you're away, Ren," she said, with a
pathetic little mouth.

Pinney kissed her and then he sat down to his work again; and when he
was tired with writing, his wife took the pen and wrote from his
dictation. As they wrought on, they lost the sense, if they ever had it,
of a fellow creature inside of the figure of a spectacular defaulter
which grew from