it started in order to
avert suspicion, could not now be found.

The market had closed and Constance was reading the account of the
collapse as it was interpreted in the Wall Street editions of the
papers, when the door opened and Brainard entered.

"This has been a good day's work, Constance," he said, flinging himself
into a chair.

"Yes, I was just reading of it in the papers. The little microphone has
put an entirely new twist on affairs. And the best of it is that the
financial writers all seem to think it was planned by Worthington and
the rest."

"Oh, hang Worthington--hang Motors. THAT is what I meant."

He slapped down a packet of letters on the desk.

"You--you found them?" gasped Constance. She looked at him keenly. It
was evident that a great weight had been taken off his mind.

"Yes indeed. I knew there was only one place where she would put
them--in her safe with her jewels. She would think I would never
suspect that she had them and, besides, she had the combination
changed. I went up to the house this afternoon when she was out. I had
an expert with me. He worked two hours, steady,--but he opened it. Here
they are. Now for the real game."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I noticed the name of the manufacturer on your microphone.
I have had one installed in the room which she uses most of all. The
wires run to the next house where I've hired an apartment. I intend to
'listen in' there. I'll get this Worthington--yet!"

That night Constance and Brainard sat for hours in the empty apartment
patiently waiting for word over the microphone.

At last there was a noise as of a door opening.

"Show them in here."

"Sybil," whispered Brainard as if perhaps she might even hear.

Then came more voices.

"Worthington and Drummond," he added. "They suspect nothing yet."

"Drummond knows this Dunlap woman," said Worthington.

The detective launched forth in a tirade against Constance.

"But she is clever, Drummond. You admit that."

"Clever as they make 'em."

"You will have her shadowed?"

"Every moment, Mrs. Brainard."

"What's all this about the panic in Motors, Lee?"

"Some other time, Sybil, not now. Drummond, what do people say?"

Drummond hesitated.

"Out with it, man."

"Well, Mr. Worthington, it is said you started it."

"The deuce I did. But I guess Sheppard and I helped it along. We'll go
the limit, too. After all, it had to come. We'll load up after it
reaches the bott