me toward the desk before which he had been sitting. It
was heaped high with a batch of unopened letters, and I could readily
understand what was in his mind.

"You will be helping the mayor more by listening to me," I continued
earnestly, "than by anything you can do here. Believe me, Mr. Steele, I
am no foolish, unadvised girl. I know what I am talking about."

He suppressed an impatient sigh and endeavored to show a proper
appreciation of my own estimate of myself and the value of my
communication.

"I am at your service," said he.

I wished he had been a little more enthusiastic, but, careful not to
show my disappointment, I added, as I led the way to the door:

"I wish we could think of some way of securing ourselves from
interruption. Nixon does not like me, and will be sure to interest
himself in our movements if he sees us go down that hall together."

"Is there any harm in that?"

"There might be. He is suspicious of me, which makes it impossible for
one to count upon his conduct. If he saw us meddling with the cabinet,
he would be very apt to rush with his complaints to Mrs. Packard, and
I am not ready yet to take her into our confidence. I want first to be
sure that my surmises are correct."

"You are quite right." If any sarcasm tinged this admission, he
successfully hid it. "I think I can dispose of Nixon for a short time,"
he went on. "You are bent upon meddling with that vestibule floor?"

"Yes."

"Even if I should advise not?"

"Yes, Mr. Steele; even if you roused the household and called Mrs.
Packard down to witness my folly. But I should prefer to make my
experiments quickly and without any other witness than yourself. I am
not without some pride to counterbalance my presumption."

We had come to a stand before the door as I said this. As I finished, he
laid his hand on the knob, saying kindly:

"Your wishes shall be considered. Take a seat in the library, Miss
Saunders, and in a few moments I will join you. I have a task for Nixon
which will keep him employed for some time."

At this he opened the door and I glided out. Making my way to the
library I hastened in and threw myself into one of its great chairs.
In another minute I heard Mr. Steele summon Nixon, and in the short
interview which followed between them heard enough to comprehend that
he was loading the old butler's arms with a large mass of documents and
papers for immediate consumption in the furnace. Nixon was not to leave