note, the hearse had
moved forward and the pall-bearers were taking their places.

Then the Lamotte carriage came into view. Mr. Lamotte placed the note in
the hand of his son, who stood close beside him, and descended the
steps, a stern look on his face.

"My friend, come down off that box," he said to the self-satisfied
substitute procured him by his coachman.

[Illustration: "My friend, come down off that."]

The man on the box stared down at him in amazement.

"But, sir," he began.

"I want no words from you, sir; you can't drive my horses. Come down
instantly."

The discomfited Belknap writhed in his seat, and looked about him
helplessly.

Before were the pall-bearers, looking back from their open vehicle, and
noting the scene; on the steps, and within easy hearing distance, were
gathered the small knot of gentlemen, who, for courtesy's sake, or for
policy's sake, had gathered to do honor to Mr. Lamotte, rather than to
the poor rosewood shrouded thing that had never a mourner.

He could not explain; he could not make himself known.

"I will have you thrown off that box, sir; if you hesitate ten seconds
longer," exclaimed Mr. Lamotte, impatiently, at the same time moving
away and beckoning to the driver of the next carriage.

Fate was against him, and muttering curses, "not loud but deep," Jerry
Belknap began to clamber reluctantly down.

Seeing this, Mr. Lamotte turned toward the bearer of the mischievous
note, who had withdrawn a few paces from the group near the carriage,
and beckoned him to approach.

He came forward promptly.

"Can you drive, my man?"

"Yes, sir," respectfully.

"Then do me the favor to mount that box and drive my horses this
afternoon."

"And you, sir," turning to poor Belknap, "get off my premises and keep
off."

And so it came about that Jerry Belknap, private detective, found
himself once more outwitted, and "Mr. Smith, the book-peddler," drove
the carriage containing John Burrill's chief mourners.

"Pardon this little scene, gentlemen," said Mr. Lamotte, turning to his
friends, "but I happen to know that the man I dismissed is drunk."

Half an hour later a servant tapped softly at the door where Constance
kept watch, and said:

"There's a boy below, Miss Wardour, who says he has an important message
for you, and must deliver it in person."

Constance went immediately down to find our old friend George, the image
boy, in the hall below.

She smiled at sight o