e, high-strung
nature, and feared that constant worry, ceaseless anxiety, might readily
so work upon her as to reduce her to a nervous wreck long before the
expiration of the thirty days named in the first threatening letter. She
found herself wishing devoutly that Duvall would appear.

As she finished speaking there came a ring at the doorbell, and Nora
started to answer it. Mrs. Morton stopped her.

"Nora," she said. "Listen to me. You are not, under any circumstances,
to admit anyone--no matter who it is--until I have first seen and talked
with them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. I understand," replied the girl, as she went out into the
hall.

A moment later Mrs. Morton, hearing a man's voice, hurried after her.
Nora, with the door but slightly open, was speaking with a rough-looking
fellow, a workman, apparently, who stood in the hallway outside. He was
a man of thirty-five, with a reddish moustache, wearing working clothes
and a cap. This he removed, as Mrs. Morton came to the door.

"Is this Mrs. Morton's apartment?" he asked.

"Yes. What do you want?" Mrs. Morton's voice and manner were far from
encouraging.

"There seems to be a leak in the plumbing somewhere on this floor," the
man went on. "There's trouble with the ceilings in the apartment below.
The superintendent wants me to go over the connections and see that
everything is all right." He lifted a canvas bag containing his tools
from the floor, and made as though to enter. Mrs. Morton, however, did
not open the door any wider.

"You can't come in now," she said. "Come back later--in an hour. My
daughter is not dressed yet." She seemed ready to close the door
entirely, but the man again spoke.

"Can't afford to wait, ma'am," he said, with a significant smile. "I got
every apartment in this building to go over before the end of the month,
and there are _only twenty-seven days left_." He emphasized his
concluding words, at the same time looking Mrs. Morton squarely in the
eye. The words, the man's look, brought sudden recognition. Mrs. Morton
drew open the door.

"Very well," she said. "Come in." She realized that the supposed workman
was no other than Duvall.

The latter went quietly toward the kitchen at the rear of the apartment,
and occupied himself by examining the connections of the sink. He seemed
to work slowly, unconcernedly, whistling softly to himself as he moved
about. His eyes, however, were very bright and keen, and no detail o