s got eyes all round her head."

"Can you work a typewriter?"

"A little bit."

"Well, when she goes out stick a piece of paper in the machine and
strike every key once, see? I want an impression of every character."

"I get you."

After lunch Evan had to waste more precious hours walking around with
the old man. When they returned Josefa reported that Mrs. Deaves had
finished her typewriting about three, and had then done up the sheets
in a large envelope, and after carefully destroying the spoiled sheets,
had carried the envelope out, presumably to post it. Josefa gave Evan
the paper he had asked for, with a print of each character of the
typewriter.

It was then five o'clock. City letters require two hours or more for
delivery, and supposing this package of Mrs. Deaves' to be an answer to
"Mr. Frelinghuysen's" note, it would soon be due at the Hotel
Madagascar. Evan determined to go and ask for it himself. He did not
suppose that Mr. Frelinghuysen was stopping at the Madagascar. That
would be too simple. He knew, as everybody knows, what an easy means
the "call" letters at a great hotel offers for the exchange of illicit
correspondence.

The Madagascar, as all the world knows, is one of our biggest and
busiest hotels. Evan went boldly to the desk and asked if there were
any letters for Mr. Roderick Frelinghuysen. The name sounded imposing.
The busy clerk skimmed over the letters in the F box, and, tossing him
a bulky envelope, thought no more about it.

Evan, in high satisfaction, wended his way to another hotel in the
neighbourhood, and there at his leisure tore the envelope open and
read--well, very much what he expected: a story designed to be used for
blackmailing purposes against Simeon Deaves. No letter accompanied it;
none was necessary.

This story dealt with ancient history, and contained uglier matter than
mere ridicule of the old man's avarice. It had to do with the
circumstances of the marriage of George Deaves to Maud Warrender and
what followed thereupon. In other words, Maud had been engaged in the
amiable occupation of fouling her own nest. According to this account
Simeon Deaves had instigated his weak and complaisant son to woo Miss
Warrender because her father was President of a railroad that Simeon
Deaves coveted. As a result of the marriage Deaves, who up to that
time had only been a money-lender, had succeeded in entering the realms
of high finance. No sooner was his