yes stood for more than cunning, they were the lights of
intellect. Belle turned to him now. If any one knew the underworld of
the South Ward it was he, and what he didn't know he had means to find
out.

She openly, frankly, told him all she knew and suspected. He heard her
at first doubtingly, then with growing interest, then with a glare of
intense attention and conviction at last. His eyes twinkled knowingly as
she expressed her opinion of the attorney. Skystein uttered the single
word "fixed." Then he tapped his white teeth with his slender forefinger
and rose to get the membership roll. He looked over it, but got no help;
there was no one entered within the last few months that they could not
fully account for.

They sat gazing in silence through the window into the adjoining reading
room when an elderly woman came in and sat down. She wore a gray cloak
and large goggles.

"Who is she?" said Belle. "I've seen her often enough, but I don't
remember her name."

"Dat's Mrs. Davis: she's been coming only about five months. She was one
of Squeaks's members."

A ray of hope shot into Belle's brain. "This fits the description of
Squeaks's cleaning woman. She knows where he is hidden; she takes him
food and keeps him posted. She is here now for the news." The woman at
the desk raised her face; through the goggles and through that inner
window she saw the two gazing at her. She rose quickly, but without
hurry, and left the building. Skystein turned after her, without
actually running, but she had disappeared.

"That woman knows where Squeaks is hiding," said Belle. But what became
of her was a puzzle. They were confronted now by a stone wall, for there
was no trace of her. The old janitor at Squeaks's lodging had not seen
her for two weeks and she did not again appear at the club.

Michael Shay's religion so far as he had any, was of the Ulster type,
and Jim Hartigan was accepted as his spiritual adviser and allowed to
see him often. Jim and Belle agreed that it was well to tell him
everything in their minds, to keep alive the light of hope, or maybe get
from him some clue. Two weeks passed thus without a hint. Then, one
evening as Skystein came late to the club, he saw a woman go out. He
went to the desk and asked who it was. The register showed a strange
name, but the clerk thought it was the gray woman till she looked at the
name. Skystein rushed out as fast as possible, just in time to see a
gray-cloaked figure