ing company; we never took him
seriously. He had business here, he said; but on the first day of his
arrival he came out to call on us. The next night our house was entered
by a burglar. Besides the papers, only a few things were taken."

"Poritol?" exclaimed Orme, incredulously.

"It happened that a Chicago detective had been in our village on business
during the day," she went on. "He had recognized on the streets a
well-known thief, named Walsh. When we reported the burglary the
detective remembered seeing Walsh, and hunted him out and arrested him.
In his pockets was some jewelry belonging to me, and in his room the
other stolen articles were found--everything except the papers."

"Did you tell the police about the papers?"

"No, it seemed wiser not to. They were in a sealed envelope with--with my
father's name on it, and would surely have been returned, if found with
the other things. There are reasons why they would have--would try to
please my father. We did let them know that an envelope containing
something of value had not been recovered, and told them to make a
thorough search.

"The afternoon after the burglary the news of Walsh's arrest was
telephoned out to us from Chicago. I talked with my father, who was not
well enough to leave the house, and it seemed best that someone should go
to the county jail and see Walsh and try to get the papers. My father had
reasons for not wishing the loss to become known. Only he and I were
acquainted with the contents of the envelope; so I insisted on going to
Chicago and interviewing the burglar."

She laughed, intercepting Orme's admiring look. "Oh, it was easy enough.
I planned to take our lawyer as an escort."

"Did you?"

"No, and that is where my troubles really began. Just as I was preparing
to go, Mr. Poritol called. I had forgotten that we had asked him out for
an afternoon of golf. He _is_ such a funny player.

"As soon as I told him I was going to the Chicago jail to interview a
burglar about some stolen goods, he insisted on acting as escort. He was
so amusingly persistent that I finally agreed. We set out for the city in
my car, not waiting to take a train.

"When we reached the jail I presented a letter which my father had
written, and the officials agreed to let me have a private interview with
Walsh."

Orme opened his eyes. This girl's father must have considerable
influence.

"It is a horrid place, the jail. They took us through a corridor t