rting down the steps.

"No," said Anne resolutely, "we must get in somehow. He may be ill. He is
an old man. He may be lying in there praying for help, dying for lack of--"
Then she called out to the chauffeur. "See if you can find a policeman. We
may have to break the door down. You see, Lutie, if he's in there I must
get to him. We may not be too late."

Lutie rejoined her at the top of the steps. "You're right, Anne. I don't
know what possessed me. But, goodness, I _hope_ it's nothing--" She
shuddered. "He may have been dead for days."

"What a horrible thing it would be if--But it doesn't matter, Lutie; I am
going in. If you are nervous or afraid of seeing something unpleasant,
don't come with me. Wade must be nearly seventy. He may have fallen
or--Look! Why,--can _that_ be him coming up the--" She was staring down the
street toward Sixth Avenue. A great breath of relief escaped her lips as
she clutched her companion's arm and pointed.

Wade was approaching. He was still half way down the long block, and only
an eye that knew him well could have identified him. Even at closer range
one might have mistaken him for some one else.

He was walking rather briskly,--in fact, he was strutting. It was not his
gait, however, that called for remark. While he was rigidly upright and
steady as to progress, his sartorial condition was positively staggering.
He wore a high, shiny silk hat. It was set at just the wee bit of an angle
and quite well back on his head. Descending his frame, the eye took in a
costly fur-lined overcoat with a sable collar, properly creased trousers
with a perceptible stripe, grey spats and unusually glistening shoes that
could not by any chance have been of anything but patent leather. Light
tan gloves, a limber walking stick, a white carnation and a bright red
necktie--there you have all that was visible of him. Even at a great
distance you would have observed that he was freshly shaved.

Suddenly his eye fell upon the automobile and then took in the smart
looking visitors above. His pace slackened abruptly. After a moment of
what appeared to be indecision, he came on, rather hurriedly. There had
been a second or two of suspense in which Anne had the notion that the
extraordinary creature was on the point of darting into a basement door,
as if, unlike the peacock, he was ashamed of his plumage.

He came up to them, removing his high hat with an awkwardness that
betrayed him. His employer was star