match, then open her valise and go through it, swiftly. She found
nothing, and turned to the wash-stand drawer. The latter was empty,
and was instantly closed again, the girl staring about the room, as
though at her wit's end. Suddenly she disappeared along the edge of
the bed, beyond the radius of the crack in the door. What was it she
was doing? Searching the bed, no doubt; seeking something hidden
beneath the pillow, or mattress.

Whatever her purpose, she was gone scarcely a moment, gliding silently
back to the chair beside the window, with watchful eyes again fixed on
the closed door. Miss Donovan smiled, and straightened up, well
satisfied with her ruse. It had served to demonstrate that the
ex-chorus-girl was far from being as calmly indifferent as she had
assumed and it had made equally evident the fact that her visit had an
object--the discovery of why Miss Donovan was in Haskell. Doubtless
she had made the call at Enright's suggestion. Very well, the lady was
quite welcome to all the information obtained. Stella opened the door,
and the eyes of the two met.

"The Chinaman seems to have gone home," the mistress of the room said
quietly. "At least he is not on this floor or in the office, and I
could see nothing of Timmons anywhere."

"Then I suppose we don't drink," complained Miss La Rue. "Well, I
might as well go to bed. There ain't much else to do in this jay town."

She got up, and moved toward the door.

"If you're only here viewing the scenery, I guess you won't remain
long."

"Not more than a day or so. I am planning a ride into the mountains
before leaving," pleasantly. "I hope I shall see you again."

"You're quite liable to," an ugly curl to the lip, "maybe more than
you'll want. Good night."

Miss Donovan stood there motionless after the door closed behind her
guest. She was conscious of the sting in those final words, the
half-expressed threat, but the smile did not desert her lips. Her only
thought was that the other was angry, irritated over her failure, her
inability to make a report to her masters. She looked at the valise on
the floor, and laughed outright, but as her eyes lifted once more, she
beheld her travelling suit draped over the head-board of the bed, and
instantly the expression of her face changed. She had forgotten
hanging it there. That must have been where the woman went when she
disappeared. It was not to rummage the bed at all, but to hastily run