il late. There was nothing to do but wait until morning. She
retired to her room, full of hope that the following day would bring an
end to her fears.

Immediately after breakfast she called again, and this time was more
successful. Duvall himself answered the telephone.

"I am Mrs. Morton, from New York," she said, eagerly. "I would like to
come out and see you."

"What do you wish to see me about?" the detective inquired.

"It is a personal matter. I will explain when I arrive. I prefer not to
do so over the telephone. I have a letter to you from Mr. Stapleton."

"Mr. John Stapleton, the banker?"

"Yes."

"Come, then, by all means, at any hour that suits you. Mr. Stapleton is
one of my best friends."

Mrs. Morton hung up the receiver, after assuring him that she would
start at once. Then she went out and engaging an automobile, set out for
Duvall's place.

CHAPTER III

Richard Duvall and his wife, Grace, lingered rather later than usual
over their breakfast that morning.

It was a warm and brilliant day in May, and the blossoming beauty of the
spring filled them both with a delightful sense of well-being.

Duvall, however, seemed a trifle restless, and Grace observed it.

"What's the matter, Richard?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing." Her husband picked up the morning paper. "They are still
looking for the woman in that Marsden case, I see," he remarked.

"Do you know, my dear," Grace said, "I sometimes think that you made a
mistake in coming down here to the country to live. Your heart is really
in New York, and every time there is a murder case, or a bank robbery,
or a kidnapping up there, you are restless as a hen on a hot griddle
until the mystery is solved. Why don't you take up your professional
work again?" Duvall laid down his paper and regarded his wife with a
look of surprise.

"Because, Grace," he said, "you especially asked me, after that affair
of the missing suffragette, to finally give up my detective work and
content myself with a quiet existence here on the farm. You said, on
account of the boy, that I ought not to take such risks."

"Well--suppose I did. You agreed with me, didn't you?"

"Yes--I guess so." Duvall once more picked up the newspaper. "But,
naturally, I can't help feeling a certain interest in any striking and
novel case that I may read about."

"And I haven't a doubt," laughed Grace, "that you wish that you were
back in harness again a dozen times a day. Come no