sn't it? But I believe writing people are queer--they
look it, anyhow. All the same, you don't look like a writer--what does he
look like, Mrs. Wooler? Oh, I know--a sort of nice little officer boy,
just washed and tidied up!"

The landlady, who had evidently enjoyed this passage at arms, laughed as
she gave Copplestone a significant glance.

"And when did you come down home, Addie?" she asked quietly. "I didn't
know you were here again."

"Came down Saturday night," said Addie. "I'm on my way to
Edinburgh--business there on Wednesday. So I broke the journey here--just
to pay my respects to my worshipful parent."

"I think I heard you say that you knew Mr. Bassett Oliver?" asked
Copplestone. "You've met him?"

"Met him in this country and in America," replied Addie, calmly. "He was
on tour over there when I was--three years ago. We were in two or three
towns together at the same time--different houses, of course. I never saw
much of him in London, though."

"You didn't see anything of him yesterday, here?" suggested Copplestone.

Addie stared and glanced at the landlady.

"Here?" she exclaimed. "Goodness, no! When I'm here of a Sunday, I lie in
bed all day, or most of it. Otherwise, I'd have to walk with my parent to
the family pew. No--my Sundays are days of rest! You really think this
disappearance is serious?"

"Oliver's managers--who know him best, of course--think it most serious,"
replied Copplestone. "They say that nothing but an accident of a really
serious nature would have kept him from his engagements."

"Then that settles it!" said Addie. "He's fallen down the Devil's Spout.
Plain as plain can be, that! He's made his way there, been a bit too
daring, and slipped over the edge. And whoever falls in there never comes
out again!--isn't that it, Mrs. Wooler?"

"That's what they say," answered the landlady.

"But I don't remember any accident at the Devil's Spout in my time."

"Well, there's been one now, anyway--that's flat," remarked Addie. "Poor
old Bassett--I'm sorry for him! Well, I'm off. Good-night, Mr.
Copplestone--and perhaps you'll so far overcome your repugnance to the
theatre as to come and see me in one some day?"

"Supposing I escort you homeward instead--now?" suggested Copplestone.
"That will at least show that I am ready to become your devoted--"

"Admirer, I suppose," said Addie. "I'm afraid he's not quite as innocent
as he looks, Mrs. Wooler. Well--you can escort me as far as t