editor snapped.

"I now believe Valois is mistaken, in view of developments," said
Willis with finality. "So does Stella--Miss Donovan, I mean. Remember
the body was charred across the face and chest--and Valois was excited."

Farriss was silent a moment.

"Stick to it a while longer," he rapped out; "and get La Rue and
Cavendish together at their meeting-place, if you can discover it."

"We can!" interjected Willis. "That's something I learned less than an
hour ago. It's Steinway's Cafe, the place where the police picked up
Frisco Danny and Mad Mike Meighan two years ago. I followed them, but
could not get near enough to hear what they said."

"Then hop to it," Farriss rejoined. "Stick around there until you get
something deeper. As for me--I'm going home. It's two o'clock."

CHAPTER VI: AT STEINWAY'S

It was the second night after Farriss had given them his instructions
that Miss Donovan and Willis, sitting in the last darkened booth in
Steinway's Cafe, were rewarded for their vigil. The booth they
occupied was selected for the reason that it immediately joined that
into which Willis had but three days before seen Cavendish and the La
Rue woman enter, and now as they sat toying with their food, their eyes
commanding the entire room, they saw a woman swing into the cafe
entrance and enter the booth directly ahead of them.

"La Rue!" whispered Willis to Miss Donovan.

Ten minutes later a young man entered the cafe, swept it quickly with
his eyes, then made directly for the enclosure occupied by his
inamorata. The man was Cavendish.

In the booth behind. Miss Donovan and Willis were all attention, their
ears strained to catch the wisps of conversation that eddied over the
low partition.

"Pray for the orchestra to stop playing," whispered Miss Donovan, and,
strangely enough, as she uttered the words the violins obeyed, leaving
the room comparatively quiet in which it was not impossible to catch
stray sentences of the subdued conversation.

"Well, I'm here." It was John's voice, an ill-humoured voice, too.
"But this is the last time, Celeste. These meetings are dangerous."

"Yes--when you talk so loud." Her soft voice scarcely reached the
listeners. "But this time there was a good reason." She laughed.
"You didn't think it was love, did you, deary?"

"Oh, cut that out!" disgustedly. "I have been foolish enough to
satisfy even your vanity. You want more money, I suppose."

"Well,