last
night? I hardly think so, for it is execrably bad form to send flowers
to a public dining room by a page in buttons."

Helen shook her head and assumed an air of great perplexity. She stole
a glance across the table at Sadie, but that shy little cousin seemed
on the verge of tears. Mrs. Burton intercepted the wireless appeal and
shifted her cross-questioning to Sadie. She was determined to unravel
the mystery. She read Sadie's panic as a symptom of guilty knowledge.

But Sadie was loyal to the cousin and chum she adored and proved
surprisingly game under fire. Indeed, she succeeded in breaking down
her aunt's cross-examination and bringing the inquest to ruins by
suddenly clapping her hands and blurting:

"Maybe Mr. Hogg sent them by telegraph."

The outrageous absurdity of the statement gave it cataclysmic force.
Helen embraced Sadie with her eyes and then added her own broadside:

"That really was splendid of him, Auntie El? Now you can tell me all
about his letter."

"I will reserve that until later," said Mrs. Burton, icily. "If you
have finished your luncheon, Helen, please pay the check and we shall
go."

CHAPTER III.

WHITNEY BARNES UNDER FIRE.

Joshua Barnes, sometimes referred to in the daily press as Old Grim
Barnes, the mustard millionaire, turned suddenly upon his son and
pinioned him:

"Why don't you get married?"

"That's just it, pater--why don't I?" replied the young man, blandly.

"Well, why don't you, then?" stormed Joshua Barnes, banging his fist
down upon the mahogany table. "It's time you did."

Another bang lifted the red-headed office boy in the next room clear
out of Deep Blood Gulch just as Derringer Dick was rescuing the
beautiful damsel from the Apaches. Even Miss Featherington dropped
"The Mystery of the Purple Room" on the floor and made a wild
onslaught on the keys of her typewriter.

Whitney Barnes smiled benevolently upon his parent and nonchalantly
lighted a cigarette.

"As I've said before," he parried easily between the puffing of smoke
rings, "I haven't found the girl."

"Dod rot the girl," started Joshua Barnes, then stopped.

"Now, you know, my dear father, that I couldn't treat my wife like
that. The trouble with you, pater, is that you reason from false
premises."

"Nothing of the sort," choked out Barnes senior. "You know well enough
what I mean, young man. You have any number of--of--well, eligible
young ladies, to choose from. You go everyw