did the rest. She passed
unnoticed and reached the door of the apartment.

As she opened it she heard the men turn and mount the stairs.
Instinctively she realized that something was wrong. One of the men was
her old enemy, Drummond, the detective.

They had not recognized her, and as she stood for a moment with her
hand on the knob, she tried to reason it out. Then she crept back, and
climbed the stairs noiselessly. Voices inside the apartment told her
that she had not been mistaken. It was the apartment of the Graysons
and Kitty that they sought.

The hall door was of thin, light wood, and as she stood there she could
easily hear what passed inside.

"What--is Kitty ill?" she heard the strange man's voice inquire.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Grayson, then her voice trailed off into an
indistinguishable whisper.

"How are you, Kitty?" asked the man.

"Oh, I have a splitting headache, Jim. I've had it all day. I could
just get up and--screech!"

"I'm sorry. I hope it gets better soon."

"Oh, I guess it will. They often go away as suddenly as they come. You
know I've had them before."

Drummond's voice then spoke up.

"Did you see the Trimble ad. to-night?" he asked, evidently of Annie.
"They have a lot of new diamonds from Arkansas, they say,--one of them
is a big one, the Arkansas Queen, I believe they call it."

"No, I didn't see the papers," replied Annie.

There was the rustle of a newspaper.

"Here's a picture of it. It must be great. I've heard a good deal about
it."

"Have you seen it?" asked Annie.

"No, but I intend to see it."

They had passed into the next room, and Constance, fearing to be
discovered, decided to get away before that happened.

Early the next morning she decided to call on Kitty, but by the time
Constance arrived at the apartment it was closed, and a neighbor
informed her that the two women had gone out together about half an
hour before.

Constance was nervous and, as she left the apartment, she did not
notice that a man who had been loitering about had quickened his pace
and overtaken her.

"So," drawled a voice, "you're traveling with shoplifters now."

She looked up quickly. This time she had run squarely into Drummond.
There was no concealment possible now. Her only refuge was silence. She
felt the hot tingle of indignation in her cheeks. But she said nothing.

"Huh!" exclaimed Drummond, walking along beside her, and adding
contemptuously, "I don't know the young o