rapid thinking. "Just a moment," he
interrupted. "Don't be too precipitate. Hear his side, if he has any. I
can manage him. Besides, I have something else to say about another
person that will interest us all."

"Then you are willing to have the consultation!"

Drummond nodded.

"Miss Dunlap," called Murray, taking the words almost from the
detective's lips, as he opened the door and held it for her to enter.

"No--no. Alone," almost shouted Beverley.

The detective signaled to him and he subsided, muttering.

As she entered Drummond looked hard at her. Constance met him without
wavering an instant.

"I think I've seen you before, MRS. Dunlap," insinuated the detective.

"Perhaps," replied Constance, still meeting his sharp ferret eye
squarely, which increased his animosity.

"Your husband was Carlton Dunlap, cashier of Green & Company, was he
not?"

She bit her lip. The manner of his raking up of old scores, though she
had expected it, was cruel. It would have been cruel in court, if she
had had a lawyer to protect her rights. It was doubly cruel, merciless,
here. Before Dodge could interrupt, the detective added, "Who committed
suicide after forging checks to meet his--"

Murray was at Drummond like a hound. "Another word from you and I'll
throttle you," he blurted out.

"No, Murray, no. Don't," pleaded Constance. She was burning with
indignation, but it was not by violence that she expected to prevail.
"Let him say what he has to say."

Drummond smiled. He had no scruples about a "third degree" of this
kind, and besides there were three of them to Dodge.

"You were--both of you--at Woodlake not long ago, were you not?" he
asked calmly.

There was no escaping the implication of the tone. Still Drummond was
taking no chances of being misunderstood. "There was one man," he went
on, "who embezzled for you. Here is another who has embezzled. How will
that look when it goes before a jury!" he concluded.

The fight had shifted before it had well begun. Instead of being
between Dodge on one side and Beverley and Dumont on the other, it now
seemed to be a clash between a cool detective and a clever woman.

"Mrs. Dunlap," interrupted Murray, with a mocking smile at the
detective, "will you tell us what you have found out since you have
been my private secretary?"

Constance had not lost control of herself for a moment.

"I have been looking over the books a little bit myself," she began
slowly, with al