the head, Mr. Larry Bolan," says I; "for I've
known her these two years, and never heard of her being an ex-nurse."

"She might not care to boast of it," says he. "Rich, did you say?"

"Near a million, they say," says I; "which don't fit in with the nurse
idea, does it?"

"I couldn't mistake Katie McDevitt," says he, waggin' his head mulish.
"But who was this Steele beggar?"

"She moved here after plantin' him West somewhere," says I. "One of the
big lumber crowd, I've heard. Sadie can tell you more."

"Thanks," says he; "but I'll have it from Katie herself. Take me
there."

"Eh?" says I. "On a chance shot? I'd look well, wouldn't I?"

"But you must," says he. "Now!"

"Come off!" says I. "You with only a glance at her! Besides, she's one
of these stiff, distant parties that keeps to herself."

"McCabe," says he, "I mean to talk with her within the hour if I have to
smash in her front door and wring a butler's neck."

There's a thrill in his voice as he says it, and from all I know of
Larry Bolan there's no stoppin' him. We started off.

The nearer we got to the big house, though, the battier the enterprise
seemed to me. First off, I'd been nursin' a dislike for Mrs. Steele ever
since I'd overheard a little seance between her and one of the outside
men. She'd caught him smugglin' home a few measly vegetables from her
big garden, and after tongue lashin' him lively she fires him on the
spot--him a poor Dago with a big fam'ly. Then there'd been tales told by
the butcher, the plumber, and half a dozen others, all goin' to show she
was a lady tightwad, or worse.

So I'd sized her up as a cold, hard proposition. And when I work up
feelin's like that I'm apt to show 'em. I couldn't help thinkin' but
maybe I had. Here I was, though, cartin' a strange gent up to her front
door, on his guess that he's her long lost Romeo.

"Ah, be good, Larry!" says I. "Let's call it off."

He shakes his head stubborn.

"All right," says I; "but take it from me we're about to pull down
trouble. What's the plan?"

He thinks, as long as I know the lady, I'd better send in my name and
then break it to her easy. So, while I'm waitin' in the reception hall,
he kicks his heels impatient against the veranda rail outside.

Rather a classy lookin' party, Mrs. Steele is as she shows up in a
stunnin' house gown,--good lines, fine complexion, and all that. Takes
mighty good care of herself, so Sadie says, with two French maids to
help.