this work, steeling herself against the
disapprobation of the town. But she found nothing. Then, in a flash,
an overlooked point recurred to her. The trouble, so went her theory,
was all due to a confusion of the bribe with the donation to the
hospital. Where was that donation?

Here was a matter that might at last lead to a solution of the
difficulty. Again on fire with hope, she interviewed her father. He
was certain that a donation had been promised, he had thought the
envelope handed him by Mr. Marcy contained the gift--but of the
donation itself he knew no more. She interviewed Doctor Sherman; he
had heard Mr. Marcy refer to a donation but knew nothing about the
matter. She tried to get in communication with Mr. Marcy, only to
learn that he was in England studying some new filtering plants
recently installed in that country. Undiscouraged, she one day stepped
off the train in St. Louis, the home of the Acme Filter, and appeared
in the office of the company.

The general manager, a gentleman who ran to portliness in his figure,
his jewellery and his courtesy, seemed perfectly acquainted with the
case. In exculpation of himself and his company, he said that they
were constantly being held up by every variety of official from a
county commissioner to a mayor, and they were simply forced to give
"presents" in order to do business.

"But my father's defense," put in Katherine, "was that he thought this
'present' was in reality a donation to the hospital. Was anything said
to my father about a donation?"

"I believe there was."

"That corroborates my father!" Katherine exclaimed eagerly. "Would you
make that statement at the trial--or at least give me an affidavit to
that effect?"

"I'll be glad to give you an affidavit. But I should explain that the
'present' and the donation were two distinctly separate affairs."

"Then what became of the donation?" Katherine cried triumphantly.

"It was sent," said the manager.

"Sent?"

"I sent it myself," was the reply.

Katherine left St. Louis more puzzled than before. What had become of
the check, if it had really been sent? Home again, she ransacked her
father's desk with his aid, and in a bottom drawer they found a heap
of long-neglected mail.

Doctor West at first scratched his head in perplexity. "I remember
now," he said. "I never was much of a hand to keep up with my letters,
and for the few days before that celebration I was so excited that I
just threw e