at Sands (whom he expressed a wish to see) would not be at
home that night? Ought she to 'phone to Beverley and put her on guard?
Yes, she would telephone from the Dietz, while waiting to see O'Reilly.
It would be safe, because Roger by this time should be far away.

X

THE BLUFF THAT WON

Justin O'Reilly had a modest suite in the magnificent Dietz. It adjoined
the luxurious suite of Mr. and Mrs. John Heron, and consisted of a small
sitting-room, a bedroom, and bath. He was tying his necktie when the
telephone bell rang. He grabbed the receiver as if it were a snake that
had to be throttled, and gave it a grudging "Hello!"

"A lady to see you," a voice answered.

"She wasn't told I'm in, I hope? A nice thing for a well-regulated hotel
if----"

"No, but she says it's important. She's Miss O'Reilly."

Miss O'Reilly! The man of that name was perplexed. The only Miss
O'Reilly who, as far as he knew, could possibly call on him, was the
last woman he would have expected to do so. He had come to New York
largely in the hope of seeing her. She had refused to see him.

"Tell her I'll be down in three minutes," he replied.

"She particularly doesn't want you to come down. She says she has some
private news for you, and asks if you'll see her in your own
sitting-room."

"All right," he tried to answer calmly. "Have the lady shown up."

He rushed back into his bedroom to wrestle once more with the tie. He
must be ready to receive Miss O'Reilly at the door, and his waistcoat
and coat were yet to put on. But it could be managed. The suite was on
the fifteenth floor, and a full minute's walk from the lift for an old
person like Miss O'Reilly. Bungling everything in his haste, he tried to
think what it might mean. It looked as if she must have changed her
mind, and be ready to sell him her house, the dear old house on which he
had set his heart. Perhaps she would demand a higher price than he had
offered. Well, he must pay it somehow. Heron would lend him the
money--but no, there were reasons why O'Reilly didn't wish to accept
favours from Heron, often as they had been pressed upon him. As he
slipped into his coat, he heard the expected rap at his sitting-room
door, and hurried to open it. A page-boy, acting as guide, had run ahead
of the lady, to knock.

"Miss O'Reilly to see Mr. O'Reilly," he announced, with Irish relish of
the Irish name. Then he erased himself. O'Reilly stood on the threshold,
waiting for the