e city now. Dud Stone had been right. Even Big Hen
Billings's warnings were well placed. A stranger like herself had to be on
the lookout all the time.

After a time the taxicab turned up a wider thoroughfare that had no
elevated trains roaring overhead. At Twenty-third Street it turned west
and then north again at Madison Square.

There was a little haze in the air--an October haze. Through this the
lamps twinkled blithely. There were people on the dusky benches, and many
on the walks strolling to and fro, although it was now growing quite
late.

In the park she caught a glimpse of water in a fountain, splashing high,
then low, with a rainbow in it. Altogether it was a beautiful sight.

The hum of night traffic--the murmur of voices--they flashed past a
theatre just sending forth its audience--and all the subdued sights and
sounds of the city delighted her again.

Suddenly the taxicab stopped.

"This is the number, Miss," said the driver.

Helen looked out first. Not much like the same number on Madison Street!

This block was a slice of old-fashioned New York. On either side was a row
of handsome, plain old houses, a few with lanterns at their steps, and
some with windows on several floors brilliantly lighted.

There were carriages and automobiles waiting at these doors. Evening
parties were evidently in progress.

The house before which the taxicab had stopped showed no light in front,
however, except at the door and in one or two of the basement windows.

"Is this the place you want?" asked the driver, with some impatience.

"I'll see," said Helen, and hopped out of the cab.

She ran boldly up the steps and rang the bell. In a minute the inner door
swung open; but the outer grating remained locked. A man in livery stood
in the opening.

"What did you wish, ma'am?" he asked in a perfectly placid voice.

"Does Mr. Willets Starkweather reside here?" asked Helen.

"Mr. Starkweather is not at home, ma'am."

"Oh! then he could not have received my telegram!" gasped Helen.

The footman remained silent, but partly closed the door.

"Any message, ma'am?" he asked, perfunctorily.

"But surely the family is at home?" cried Helen.

"Not at this hour of the hevening, ma'am," declared the English servant,
with plain disdain.

"But I must see them!" cried Helen, again. "I am Mr. Starkweather's niece.
I have come all the way from Montana, and have just got into the city. You
must let me in."

"Hi 'ave no