a talk with you in the morning."

And then the footsteps of the detective were heard, lessening in their
sound, as he made his way to his room.

Viola, perplexed, puzzled, and bewildered, went back to her desk. She
took up the letters again. The torn one with its strange reference: "As
members of the same--"

What could it be? Was it some secret society to which her father and
Gerry Poland belonged, the violation of the secrets of which carried a
death penalty?

No, it could not be anything as sensational as that. Clearly the captain
was in love with her--he had frankly confessed as much, and Viola knew
it anyhow. She was not at all sure whether he loved her for her position
or because she was good to look upon and desirable in every way.

As for her own heart, she was sure of that. In spite of the fact that
she had tried to pique him that fatal day, merely to "stir him up,"
as she phrased it, Viola was deeply and earnestly in love with Harry
Bartlett, and she was sure enough of his feeling toward her to find in
it a glow of delight.

Then there was in the letter the hint of a threat. "Let me hear from you
by the twenty-third, or--"

"Oh, what does it mean? What does it mean?" and Viola bent her weary
head down on the letters and her tears stained them. Puzzled as she
was over the contents of the letters--torn and otherwise--which she had
found hidden in the drawer of the private safe, Viola Carwell was not
yet ready to share her secret with her Aunt Mary or Colonel Ashley.
These two were her nearest and most natural confidants under the
circumstances.

"I would like to tell Harry, but I can't," she reasoned, when she
had awakened after a night of not very refreshing slumber. "Of course
Captain Poland could explain--if he would. But I'll keep this a secret a
little longer. But, oh! I wonder what it means?"

And so, when she greeted Colonel Ashley at the breakfast table she
smiled and tried to appear her usual self.

"I did not hear you come in," said Miss Carwell, as she poured the
coffee.

"No, I did not want to disturb any one," answered the colonel. "I saw a
light under Miss Viola's door, and reported myself to her," he went on.
"But I don't imagine you slept much more than I did, for your eyes are
not as bright as usual," and he smiled at the girl.

"Aren't they?" countered Viola. "Well, I did read later than I should.
But tell me, Colonel Ashley, are you making any progress at all?"

He did not an