t. She
felt a sense of curiosity as to what the detective was up to now. And,
somehow, she felt a duty in the case. She determined to return the
envelope and card, and meet the woman. And the more she thought of it
the more imperative became the idea.

So it came about that the following forenoon Constance sought out the
Melcombe Apartments, a huge stone and brick affair on a street which
the uptown trend of population was transforming.

Anita Douglas, she had already found out by an inquiry or two, was the
wife of a well-known business man. Yet, as she entered the little
apartment, she noticed that there was no evidence about it of a man's
presence.

Mrs. Douglas greeted her unexpected visitor with an inquiring look.

"I was passing through the corridor of the Vanderveer yesterday
afternoon," began Constance, leaping into the middle of her errand,
"and I happened to see this envelope lying on the carpet. I thought
first of destroying it; then that perhaps you would rather destroy it
yourself."

Mrs. Douglas almost pounced on the letter as Constance handed it to
her. "Thank you," she exclaimed. "It was very thoughtful of you."

For a moment or two they chatted of inconsequential things.

"Who was your friend?" asked Constance at length.

The woman caught her breath and flushed a bit, evidently wondering just
how much Constance really knew.

"The young lady," added Constance, who had put the question in this
form purposely.

"Why do you ask?" Mrs. Douglas inquired in a tone that betrayed
considerable relief.

"Because I can tell you something of her, I think."

"A friend of mine--a Mrs. Murray. Why?"

"Aren't you just a little bit afraid of--er--friends that you may
chance to make in the city?" queried Constance.

"Afraid?" repeated the other.

"Yes," said Constance, coming gradually to the point. "You know there
are so many detectives about."

Mrs. Douglas laughed half nervously. "Oh, I've been shadowed," she
replied confidently. "I know how to shake them off. If you can't do
anything else, you can always take a taxi. Besides, I think I can
uncover almost any shadow. All you have to do, if you think you're
being shadowed, is to turn a corner and stop. That uncovers the shadow
as soon as he comes up to the corner, and after that he is useless. You
know him."

"That's all right," nodded Constance; "but you don't know these crooked
detectives nowadays as I do. They can fake up evidence to order. That