boarding-house plan--dressing-table, desk, couch-bed, and
curtained bookcase, but no article of furniture indicated any line of
business that might be carried on in the room, Tavia observed.

Miss Brooks closed the door gently, but made sure it was well closed. Then
she took a chair directly opposite Tavia.

"You are Miss Travers," she began in a most business-like way.

"Yes," replied Tavia simply.

"Well, I asked you to come, Miss Travers, because I felt I could help you.
I make few friends--the world played me false long ago--but when I see a
young girl like you in danger, I am not too bitter to warn her."

"Thank you," Tavia managed to utter.

"You no doubt think me a strange woman--every one does--but I have a
motive in traveling about. I had a very dear sister whom I lost years ago.
Lately I have learned that she died in this section of the country. She
left a child--a baby girl--and I hope some day I may find that child."
Miss Brooks paused to cover her eyes with her slim hand. Tavia noticed
that her hands were white and shapely. After a moment's hesitation Miss
Brooks continued in the same business-like voice she had at first assumed.

"As I have said, I think I can help you." She crossed to the
dressing-table, opened a drawer and took from it a large envelope. From
this envelope she unfolded a sheet of closely typewritten paper. This she
showed to Tavia.

"Is that your signature?" she asked, pointing to the name signed to the
letter.

"Why, yes," stammered Tavia, startled and surprised.

"You are astonished that I should have your letter," said the woman. "But
so-called confidential correspondence travels many miles these days. I
address letters and do penwork for business firms, and have received your
letter among hundreds of others."

A flash of indignation crossed Tavia's face. She wanted to snatch that
letter and tear it into a thousand pieces.

But Miss Brooks was quick to discern her indignation.

"Of course, I am responsible for every letter," she said. "In fact, I run
a great risk in even showing this to you. But I felt I would have to make
sure--that you were the party--involved."

Tavia felt like a culprit.

Involved!

She sighed heavily as Miss Brooks fumbled with the telltale letter.

"You lost five dollars?" asked Miss Brooks.

"Yes. Five of my own, and ten of a--friend's."

"Oh!" and the woman's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Yes, I see. Nathaniel
White," and she ran her fin