ree tramps here to hornswoggle us
an' I--"

"I _must_ see her, Mr. Crow," pleaded the stranger, and he was struck by
the richness of her voice.

"Mighty queer, it seems to me," he muttered hesitatingly. "Are you any
kin to it?"

"I am very much interested."

"By giminy, I believe you're the one who left her here," cried the
detective. "Are you a typewriter?"

"I'll answer your questions if you'll allow me to step inside. It is
very cold out here."

Anderson Crow stood aside and the tall, black figure entered the hall.
He led her to the warm sitting-room and gave her a chair before the
"base-burner."

"Here, Mr. Crow, is an envelope containing two hundred and fifty
dollars. That proves my good faith. I cannot tell you who I am nor what
relation I bear to the baby. I am quite fully aware that you will not
undertake to detain me, for it is not an easy matter to earn a thousand
dollars a year in this part of the world. I am going abroad next week
and do not expect to return for a long, long time. Try as I would, I
could not go without seeing the child. I will not keep you out of bed
ten minutes, and you and your wife may be present while I hold Rosalie
in my arms. I know that she is in good hands, and I have no intention of
taking her away. Please call Mrs. Crow."

Anderson was too amazed to act at once. He began to flounder
interrogatively, but the visitor abruptly checked him.

"You are wasting time, Mr. Crow, in attempting to question my authority
or identity. No one need know that I have made this visit. You are
perfectly secure in the promise to have a thousand dollars a year; why
should you hesitate? As long as she lives with you the money is yours. I
am advancing the amount you now hold in order that her immediate wants
may be provided for. You are not required to keep an account of the
money paid to you. There are means of ascertaining at once whether she
is being well cared for and educated by you, and if it becomes apparent
that you are not doing your duty, she shall be removed from your
custody. From time to time you may expect written instructions
from--from one who loves her."

"I jest want to ast if you live in Tinkletown?" Anderson managed to say.

"I do not," she replied emphatically.

"Well, then, lift your veil. If you don't live here I sha'n't know you."

"I prefer to keep my face covered, Mr. Crow; believe me and trust me.
Please let me see her." The plea was so earnest that Anderson's h