street.

A limousine drew up, and Benson, Jimmie Dale's chauffeur, opened the
door.

"Home, Mr. Dale?" he asked cheerily, touching his cap. "Yes,
Benson--home," said Jimmie Dale absently, and stepped into the car.

It was a luxurious car, as everything that belonged to Jimmie Dale was
luxurious--and he leaned back luxuriously on the cushions, extended
his legs luxuriously to their full length, plunged his hands into his
overcoat pockets--and then a change stole strangely, slowly over Jimmie
Dale.

The sensitive fingers of his right hand in the pocket had touched, and
now played delicately over a sealed envelope that they had found there,
played over it as though indeed by the sense of touch alone they could
read the contents--and he drew his body gradually erect.

It was another of those mysterious missives from--HER. The texture of
the paper was invariably the same--like this one. How had it come there?
Collusion with the coat boy at the club? That was hardly probable.
Perhaps it had been there before he had entered the club for dinner--he
remembered, now, that there had been several people passing, and that he
had been jostled slightly in crossing the sidewalk. What, however, did
it matter? It was there mysteriously, as scores of others had come to
him mysteriously, with never a clew to her identity, to the identity of
his--he smiled a little grimly--accomplice in crime.

He took the envelope from his pocket and stared at it. His fingers had
not been at fault--it was one of hers. The faint, elusive, exquisite
fragrance of some rare perfume came to him as he held it.

"I'd give," said Jimmie Dale wistfully to himself--"I'd give everything
I own to know who you are--and some day, please God, I will know."

Jimmie Dale tore the envelope very gently, as though the tearing almost
were an act of desecration--and extracted the letter from within. He
began to read aloud hurriedly and in snatches:

"DEAR PHILANTHROPIC CROOK: Charleton Park Manor--Markel's house is the
second one from the gates on the right-hand side--library leads off
reception hall on left, door opposite staircase--telephone in reception
hall near vestibule entrance, left-hand side--safe is one of your
father's make, No. 14,321--clothes closet behind the desk--probably will
be kept in cash box--five servants; two men, three maids--quarters on
top story--Markel and wife occupy room over library--French windows to
dining room on opposite side of t