when she left here
and no one hates an eleven year old child. Having no enemy, she has
doubtless escaped personal harm. But Alora is an heiress, and a lot of
people in Chicago know that. You suggest kidnapping. Well, perhaps
that's the solution: held for ransom."

"That would be the first idea of Jason Jones!" exclaimed Mary Louise.
"He has always seemed afraid of such a thing."

"In that case, however, I do not believe her father would pay a
ransom," declared Colonel Hathaway.

"Oh, indeed he would!" asserted Mary Louise, emphatically; "we mustn't
forget that if Alora isn't found and restored to him within a given
time he will lose all her income for the next three years."

Josie looked at her friend admiringly. Then she laughed.

"You're a better detective than any of us," she remarked. "What I've
been groping for is the _object_ of the abduction, and you've hit the
nail squarely on the head. Now we're getting down to brass tacks, so to
speak. The whole thing is explained by the one word--'blackmail.' Girl
disappears; papa is threatened with the lose of thousands. Very well,
Papa! pay up. Relinquish a part of the income and you may keep the
rest. Refuse, and you lose it all. Ergo, papa pays."

"That certainly seems a logical conclusion," admitted the Colonel.

"Then," said Josie, thoughtfully, "we must decide whether to put it up
to Mr. Jones, and let him pay, or to go on with the search."

"We'll go on!" exclaimed Mary Louise. "We may be wrong, and poor Alora
may be in danger, or suffering. We must rescue her as soon as
possible."

"The girl was in my care," said the Colonel, "and I feel responsible
for her safety. Moreover blackmail is a crime against society, and the
plot should be foiled even were we not interested in the victim of it.
I am anxious to find Alora before her father is approached."

"Then," Josie decided, "we will leave no stone unturned in our efforts
to locate and recover her. If we have diagnosed the case correctly, we
have to deal with a shrewd and unprincipled, if not clever person.
Cleverness, too, we may encounter, and then our task will be doubly
hard."

"Poor, dear Alora!" sighed Mary Louise. "It's a shame she should suffer
because some cruel person wants her father's money. The fortune her
mother left her has been a _mis_fortune to her daughter, instead of a
blessing."

"Money," said Josie sententiously, "is a dangerous thing. Its
possession, or the lack of it, leads to four-