in this house."

"We'll do it, Mr. Harleston," the manager acquiesced instantly. "Come
down to the office and we'll go over the guest diagram, while I have
every unoccupied room looked into. In fact, sir, we'll do anything short
of burglaring our guests."

"I'll be right down," Harleston said; "after I've bathed my face and
straightened up a bit."

The contusion on his cheek was not particularly noticeable; it might be
worse in the morning; his collar was a trifle crushed and his hair was
awry; on the whole, he had come out of the fight very well.

He took up his stick and gloves, put on his hat so as to shade, as far
as possible, the cheek-bone, and went down to the private office.

There was, of course, the chance that Mrs. Clephane had lured him into
the trap, and had herself written the decoy note; but he did not
believe her guilty. Even though Crenshaw had adroitly implicated her,
he was not influenced. Indeed, he was convinced of just the
reverse:--that she was honest and sincere and inexperienced, and that
she had told him the true story of the letter and its loss. At least he
was acting on that theory, and was prepared to see it through. Maybe he
was a fool to believe those brown eyes and that soft voice and those
charming ways; if so, he preferred to be a fool for a little while, to,
if not, being a fool to her forever. He had, in his time, encountered
many women with beautiful faces and compelling eyes and alluring voices
and charming ways, but with none had they been so blended as in Mrs.
Clephane.

He did not know a thing as to her history--he did not even know whether
she was married, a widow, or a divorcee. Whatever she was, he was
willing to accept her as genuine--until she was proven otherwise.

All of which would indicate that she had made something of an impression
on Harleston--who was neither by nature nor by experience impressible
and, in the diplomatic game, had about as much sentiment as a granite
crag. In fact, with Harleston every woman who appeared in the
diplomatic game lay under instant and heavy suspicion.

Mrs. Clephane was the first exception.

X

SKIRMISHING

On the slender chance of finding Mrs. Clephane, Harleston made another
tour of the rooms and corridor on the first floor.

It was without avail--save that he noticed Madeline Spencer and her
escort were still at dinner. They did not see him--and he was very well
content. Later he would want a word with them--p