. Then the recollection of the cunning
of the man, his vulgarity, his insincerity, slowly steadied her. Her
secret must be kept, and she must not anger him further.

"Perhaps, Mr. Mangan, if you came with me to my rooms, and saw my old--"
she paused, then added softly, "the old woman I live with, and I showed
you where the box is always kept and the way the door opens, perhaps you
could help us to find out how it could have happened."

Mangan rose and pushed back his chair. "Well, you are the limit!" he
gritted between his teeth. "I guess I'm in for it. The old man will be
howling mad, and I don't blame him."

He walked to his desk, picked up his telephone, and, in a restrained
voice, said: "Send Pickert up here. I'm in my office. Tell him there's
something doing."

Lady Barbara rose from her chair and stood waiting. She did not know
who Pickert was nor whether her pleading had moved Mangan, who had now
resumed his seat at the desk, piled high with papers, one of which he
was studying closely.

"And you don't think it will do any good if you come to my room?"

Mangan shook his head.

"And shall I wait any longer?" she continued. The words were barely
audible. She knew her dismissal had come and that she must face another
dreary hunt for new work.

Mangan did not raise his head. "Sit down. I'll tell you when I'm
through."

The door opened and a thick-set man, in a brown suit and derby hat,
stepped in.

Mangan wheeled his chair and fronted the two. "This woman, Pickert, is
carried on our pay-roll as Mrs. Stanton. She's got a room off St. Mark's
Place. Here's the number. About a week ago I gave her a lace mantilla
to fix, something good--worth over $200--and every day she's been coming
here with a new lie. Now she says she's lost it. She's either got it
down where she lives or she's pawned it. I've done what I could to
save her, but she sticks to it. Better take some one from the office,
down-stairs, with you. Maybe when she thinks it over she'll come to her
senses. Take her along with you. I'm through."

As the man stepped forward, Lady Barbara sprang away from his touch.
"You do not mean you are going to let this man take me--Mr. Mangan,
you must not, you shall not! You would not commit that outrage. Do you
mean--?"

Pickert made a gesture of disgust, his fingers outspread. "Keep all that
for the captain. It won't cut any ice here, and you'd better not talk.
Now come along, and don't make any fuss. If it'