glance of
defiance at Ray, "it only required a few lines and touches to my face to
apparently add several years to my age and change its expression; and,
with my red hair and the change in my figure, my disguise was complete."

"And the name," interposed Ray, regarding her sternly; "you had a purpose
in using that."

"Certainly, and the invalid husband also," she retorted, with a short,
reckless laugh. "I had a purpose, too, in calling the elder Mr. Palmer's
attention to the profusion of diamonds worn by Mrs. Vanderheck upon the
evening of Mrs. Merrill's reception. You can understand why, perhaps,"
she added, sarcastically, and turning to the detective.

He merely nodded in reply, but muttered under his breath, with a kind of
admiration for her daring:

"Clever--clever, from the word 'go.'"

"With a wig of white hair, a few additional wrinkles, and the sedate
dress of a woman of sixty, I passed as Mrs. Walton, the mother of a
lunatic son. It was not such a very difficult matter after all," she
added, glancing vindictively at Ray: "the chief requirement was plenty of
assurance, or cheek, as you men would express it. My only fear was that
the diamonds would be missed before we were admitted to the doctor's
house."

"When did you take that package from my pocket?" Ray demanded, with some
curiosity. "Was it when I leaned forward to assist you about your dress?"

The woman's lips curled.

"And run the risk of being detected before leaving the carriage after all
my trouble? No, indeed," she scornfully returned. "My _coup de grace_ was
just after ringing Doctor Wesselhoff's bell, while we stood together on
the steps; the package was not large, though valuable, and it was but the
work of a moment to transfer it from your pocket to mine, while you stood
there with your arms full."

Ray regarded her wonderingly. She must have been very dextrous, he
thought, and yet he remembered now that she had turned suddenly and
brushed rather rudely against him.

"And in St. Louis--" Mr. Rider began.

Mrs. Montague flushed, and a wary gleam came into her eye.

"Yes, of course," she interrupted, hastily; "I was also the Mrs. Walton,
of St. Louis. It was very easy to hire an extra room under that name."

"And your agent was--who?" continued Mr. Rider.

"That does not matter," she retorted, sharply. "You have found me out.
I have recklessly explained my own agency in these affairs, but you will
not succeed in making me implicate