ll him to
bring his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting
for him. You understand?"

"Certainly, sir!"

Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted,
however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was
addressed to Mr. Sabin.

"This is very clever," he mused, hesitating for a moment before opening
it. "I wired for rooms only a few hours ago--and I find a letter. It is
the commencement."

He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of
note-paper. Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.

"Go back to Lenox."

There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing about
this brief communication was that it was written in yellow pencil of a
peculiar shade. Mr. Sabin's eyes glittered as he read.

"The yellow crayon!" he muttered.

Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and
envelope into his breast coat pocket.

CHAPTER II

"This is the luggage porter, sir," Duson announced. "He is prepared to
answer any questions."

The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an easy-chair,
turned sideways towards him.

"The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week," he said. "She
left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me whether her
baggage went through your hands?"

The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the leaves
of his book.

"Guess I can fix that for you," he remarked, running his forefinger
down one of the pages. "Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday, and
we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New Haven &
Hartford."

Mr. Sabin nodded.

"Thank you," he said. "She would probably take a carriage to the
station. It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can find me
the man who drove her."

"Well, we ought to manage that for you," the man remarked encouragingly.
"It was one of Steve Hassell's carriages, I guess, unless the lady took
a hansom."

"Very good," Mr. Sabin said. "See if you can find him. Keep my inquiries
entirely to yourself. It will pay you."

"That's all right," the man remarked. "Don't you go to bed for
half-an-hour, and I guess you'll hear from me again."

Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless in
his easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter reappeared
ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a shiny coachman's
hat in his hand.