s of any of these men looked into, but I knew some of them,
and Maston, who was a journalist, left a wife and three children and was
little, if any, over thirty. James Cobham, broker--he was getting on to
fifty, left about a million, came near being indicted during the Graft
Prosecutions, and although his wife has been in the newspapers as a
society leader for the last twenty years, and he was one of the founders
of Burlingame, and then was active in changing the name of the high part
to Hillsboro when the swells felt they couldn't be identified with the
village any longer, and he handed out wads the first of every year to
charity, there are stories that he came near being divorced by his
haughty wife about fifteen years ago. Of course, those men don't parade
their mistresses openly like they did thirty years ago--I mean men with
any social position to keep up. But now and again the wife finds a note,
or receives an anonymous letter, and gets busy. Then it's the divorce
court, unless he can smooth her down, and promises reform. Cobham seems
to me the likeliest man, and I'm going to start a thorough investigation
to-morrow. These other Jameses don't hold out any promise at
all--grocers, clerks, butchers. It's the list in hand I'll go by, and if
nothing pans out--well, we'll have to take the other cue she threw out
and try Los Angeles."

"Do you know anything about a man named Nicolas Doremus?" asked
Ruyler abruptly.

"The society chap? Nothing much except that he don't do much business on
the street but is supposed to be pretty lucky at poker and bridge. But he
runs with the crowd the police can't or don't raid. I've never seen or
heard of him anywhere he shouldn't be except with swell slumming or
roadhouse parties. He's never interested me. If Society can stand that
sort of bloodsucking tailor's model, I guess I can. Why do you ask? Got
anything to do with this case?"

"I have an idea he has found out the truth and is blackmailing my wife.
You might watch him."

"Good point. I will. And if he's found out the truth I guess I can."

CHAPTER VII

I

Helene, as Ruyler had anticipated, refused positively to accept Mrs.
Thornton's invitation.

"Do you think I'd leave you--to come home to a dreary house every night?
Even if I don't see much of you, at least you know I'm there; and that if
you have an evening off you have only to say the word and I'll break any
engagement--you have always known that!"

Ruyle