oom, and the fine lady who had left the building in company with a
gentleman, until it was settled by the elevator boy, who declared the two
women to be one and the same.

A moment later a man in citizen's clothing, who had keen eyes, and who was
riding a motor-cycle, rounded the corner and puffed placidly along near
the two. He appeared to be looking at the numbers on the other side of the
street, but he heard every word that they said as they caught sight of the
disappearing carriage and hurried after it. He had been standing in the
entrance of the Y.W.C.A. Building, an apparently careless observer, while
the elevator boy gave his evidence.

The motor-cycle shot ahead a few rods, passed the carriage, and discovered
by a keen glance who were the occupants. Then it rounded the block and
came almost up to the two pursuers again.

When the carriage stopped at the side entrance of a hotel the man on the
motor-cycle was ahead of the pursuers and discovered it first, long enough
to see the two get out and go up the marble steps. The carriage was
driving away when the thin man came in sight, with the baggy man
struggling along half a block behind, his padded feet coming down in
heavy, dragging thuds, like a St. Bernard dog in bedroom slippers.

One glimpse the pursuers had of their prey as the elevator shot upward.
They managed to evade the hotel authorities and get up the wide staircase
without observation. By keeping on the alert, they discovered that the
elevator had stopped at the second floor, so the people they were tracking
must have apartments there. Lurking in the shadowy parts of the hall, they
watched, and soon were rewarded by seeing Dunham come out of a room and
hurry to the elevator. He had remembered his promise to his mother about
the engravers. As soon as he was gone, they presented themselves boldly at
the door.

Filled with the joy that had come to her and feeling entirely safe now in
the protection of her husband, Mary Dunham opened the door. She supposed,
of course, it was the bell-boy with a pitcher of ice-water, for which she
had just rung.

"Ah, here you are at last, my pretty cousin!" It was the voice of Richard
that menaced her, with all the stored-up wrath of his long-baffled search.

At that moment the man from the motor-cycle stepped softly up the top
stair and slid unseen into the shadows of the hall.

For an instant it seemed to Mary Dunham that she was going to faint, and
in one swift f