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CHAPTER XVI
A PROMISE

Of the General Public, there were few who doubted Landon’s guilt. When no other explanation offered, it was plausible think that the dying man referred to his murderer as Cain. But when a man named Kane was shown to have motive and opportunity, when also, he was a bold and even impudent westerner, who could doubt that he was the murderer the victim meant to denounce?

Yet, some argued, ought he not to have the benefit of the doubt? Though he had an apparent motive, though he confessed to being in the vicinity at or near the time of the murder, that was not actual proof.

And, all the time, Kane Landon, in jail, was seemingly unconcerned as to what people thought of him, and apparently in no way afraid of the doom that menaced him.

Again and again the district attorney talked with Landon.

At first non-committal, Landon later denied the crime.

“Of course, I didn’t do it!” he declared; “I had quarreled with my uncle, I’ve quarreled with other people, but I don’t invariably kill them!”

“But you were in the same woods at the time of the crime.”

“I was; but that doesn’t prove anything.”

“Mr. Landon, I believe you are depending on our lack of proof to be acquitted of this charge.”

“I am,” and Landon’s tone was almost flippant; “what else have I to depend on? You won’t take my word.”

“If you want to be acquitted, it will take a pretty smart lawyer to do it.”

“What do you want me to do, confess?”

“I think you’ll be indicted, anyway. Perhaps you may as well confess.”

With this cheering reflection, Whiting left him.

Avice Trowbridge, instead of being prostrated at the news of Landon’s arrest, was furiously angry.

“I never heard of such injustice!” she exclaimed to Judge Hoyt, who told her about it. “It’s outrageous! Kane never did it in the world. You know that, don’t you, Leslie?”

“I wish I were sure of it, dear. But it looks dark against him just now. Still, there’s little real proof, – ”

“There isn’t any! There can’t be any! I know he is innocent. I may have had a shadow of doubt before, but I am sure now. Kane never did it!”

“But, Avice, your assertions and reiterations wouldn’t carry any weight with a jury. It needs more than a woman’s opinion of a man to prove the truth.”

“Then I shall get what it does need, but the truth must be proved. And you will help me, won’t you, Leslie? You promised, you know.”

“Yes, and what did you promise me in return? Announce our engagement, Avice, wear my ring, set a day to marry me, and I swear I will get Landon free, no matter what the truth may be.”

“You are contemptible!” and Avice gave him a look of utter scorn.

“I know it. I acknowledge it. But it is my love and devotion to your own dear self that makes me so. Can’t you understand, – no, no, – you can’t. No woman could guess what it means to a hitherto honorable man to resolve to commit perjury, – to swear to a lie, – but the prize is worth it! For you, my beauty, my idol, I would do anything! And I can do it safely; I shall never be found out, for my reputation is too unsullied and too far above reproach for me even to be suspected. I will exploit that letter you so cleverly wrote, and however they may doubt its integrity, they can’t prove that Mr. Trowbridge didn’t write it.”

“Kane doesn’t believe Uncle Rowly wrote it.”

“Did he say so?”

“Not exactly; but he implied it.”

“Don’t you see why, dear? Landon, being guilty himself, knew the note was forged, and of course, he knew only you would do it.”

“Oh, I never thought of that! Do you think it helps to prove Kane guilty?”

“Of course, and so do you, but you don’t want to admit it. But you know it, Avice, in your heart, – so how can you keep on loving him?”

“I don’t know how I can – ” and Avice looked awed at her own thoughts. “But never mind that now. You have promised – oh, Leslie, – do you think it was that little Fibsy boy’s getting that information about the Scaphinotus and the trap-bottle from Professor Meredith, that made them arrest Kane?”

“It helped mightily, Avice. That boy came to see me, and he told me of some clues he had picked up in the woods. But they sounded pretty rubbishy, I thought, and I paid no attention to them. I did offer, though, to get him a position, and I found one for him with a man I know in Philadelphia. It’s a good place, and he ought to do well there.”

“I think you were awfully good to him,” Avice said, with glowing eyes. “I have a sort of liking for the boy, and Uncle was really fond of him.”

“I gave him a talking to about telling stories. But he didn’t seem much impressed. I fear he is incorrigible.”

“Leslie,” and Avice looked him straight in the eyes; “tell me the truth yourself! Why did you do that for Fibsy? You had some reason of your own!”

Hoyt started; “Why Avice, you’re clairvoyant! Well, since you ask, I will tell you. The boy is clever in a detective way. And he might stumble on some clue that would – that would – ”

“Oh, I know! That would implicate Kane!”

“Yes; and so you see, dear, it is better to get him out of the way before he makes any trouble for us.”

“Were his clues, as he calls them, of any importance?”

“Probably not; but the boy is unusually, almost abnormally shrewd, and we can’t afford to take chances. I didn’t care to look at his buttons and foot prints, for I thought it better to remain in ignorance of their significance, if they have any.”

“Oh, Leslie, isn’t it awful? I never deliberately committed an act of deception before.”

“Why are you so sure that Landon is innocent?”

Avice’s eyes fell. “I’m not,” she said in a low tone. “But I want him cleared, anyway.”

“I wished you loved me like that!”

“I wish I did! But I don’t and never shall.”

“But I shall have you, darling and I’ll make you so happy you can’t help loving me. Avice, my only excuse for taking you this way, is my positive conviction that I can make you happy.”

“But you haven’t freed Kane yet – ”

“He isn’t indicted yet, dear. Perhaps he never will be. Not if I can prevent it. But his freedom, sooner or later, will mean our marriage, so I shall accomplish it, somehow. With the boy out of the way, I ought to manage it. But that little chap is so shrewd, he might even see through that note you made up. You know he has an eye for details, and the paper is different from the sort your uncle used and McGuire might easily notice that. And if the least question were raised about that note’s genuineness, I fear it would go hard with us.”

“How clever, Leslie, to think of these things.”

“And you do love me a little, don’t you, my girl?”

“I like you a whole lot, but – ”

“Never mind the but – stop there. I’ll make you love me yet, and if doing this thing for you will help, I’ll willingly do it. Since I’m not incriminating an innocent man, I’m willing to let a guilty one go free. But Avice, if some guiltless person should be suspected, – I couldn’t then keep back the truth.”

“That’s why I want John Hemingway suspected. Then there is no danger of accusing an innocent person. If the police really think it was a man named Hemingway, they can’t do anything to Kane, but free him.”

“We’ll see,” and Judge Hoyt sighed. It was not an easy task he had undertaken, to fasten suspicion on a mythical character, but he would carry it through, if possible, because of the reward that was to be his. To do him justice, he didn’t think Avice was deeply in love with Landon, but rather, that her sympathies had been aroused by the man’s tragic position and perhaps by the injustice of his sudden and unexpected arrest.

And he fully believed that Landon, once freed, would turn to Mrs. Black and not to Avice. The judge felt that these two had known each other well and long before their recent meeting at the Trowbridge home, and that they were only biding their time to renew their relations, whatever they were or had been.

Judge Hoyt and Avice went together to the Tombs to see Landon. The application of Hoyt for permission was readily granted and the prisoner was brought to see them in the warden’s room.

Landon was in an aggravating mood. He was indifferent, almost jaunty in his demeanor, and Avice was really annoyed at him.

“Kane,” she said, earnestly, “I don’t know why you assume this light air, but it must be assumed. It can’t be your real feelings. Now, Judge Hoyt is willing to help you, – to help us. If you are indicted – ”

“Nonsense! The Grand Jury’ll never indict me.”

“Why do you think they won’t?”

“Because they can’t get sufficient evidence.”

“Oh, Kane, why didn’t you say because you are innocent? You are, – aren’t you?”

Landon looked at her. “What do you think?” he said, in a voice devoid of any expression whatever.

Avice looked away. “I don’t know what to think! I am telling you the truth, Kane. I cannot decide whether I think you guilty or not – I don’t know.”

“And you’ll never learn, – from me!”

“Kane! What do you mean by such an attitude toward me?”

“Yes, Mr. Landon,” broke in Judge Hoyt, unable longer to control his indignation, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing at all,” replied Kane, coolly; “and by the way, Judge, I’m advised by our worthy district attorney that I would do well to get a competent lawyer to run this affair for me. Will you take it up?”

“Are you sure you want me?”

“Naturally, or I shouldn’t have asked you.”

“Why do you hesitate, Leslie?” said Avice, her troubled eyes looking from one man to the other.

“Shall I be frank?” began Hoyt, slowly.

“It isn’t necessary,” said Landon; “I know what you mean. You think it will be a hard matter, if not an impossible one, to clear me.”

“I don’t mean quite that,” and Hoyt’s fine face clouded. “Yes, Landon, I’ll take the case, if you desire it.”

And so Kane Landon had a clever, shrewd and capable lawyer to defend him. Avice had great faith in Leslie Hoyt’s genius, though she had feared the two men were not very friendly.

She took occasion later, on the way home, to thank Hoyt for his willingness in the matter.

“I’m sure you’ll get him off,” she said, hopefully.

Hoyt looked grave. “You’re mistaken, Avice; I can’t get him off.”

“What! You mean he’ll be convicted!”

“How can he help but be? I can’t perform miracles. But I might make a more desperate effort than a stranger. That’s all I can promise.”

“Even when you remember what I have promised you?”

“Oh, my love, when I think of that, I feel that I can perform miracles. Yes, I’ll succeed somehow. Landon shall be freed, and I shall put all my powers to the work of making his freeing a jubilant triumph for him.”

Avice went home aghast at what she had done. She had forged a document, she had persuaded Hoyt to perjure himself, and worst of all, she had promised to marry a man she did not love.

She had friendly feelings for her fiancé, but no impulse of love stirred her heart for him. Indeed, it was while she was talking with him, that she realized that she really loved Kane Landon. As she thought it all over, she knew that she had loved Landon without being aware of it, and that it was Hoyt’s appeal that had shown her the truth. Yes, that was why she had forged that letter, because Kane’s safety was more to her than her own honesty! And all this for a man who did not love her! It was shocking, it was unmaidenly, – but it was true.

She would save the man she loved, and then, if there was no escape she would marry Hoyt. Her debt to him must be paid, and she had given her promise. Well, she would not flinch. Once let Kane be freed of all suspicion of crime, and then she would pay her penalty.

She remembered a quotation. “All for love and the world well lost.” That was her heart’s cry.

But from these moments of exaltation and self-justification, Avice would fall into depths of self-reproach, and black despair.

At times she could scarcely believe she had done the awful thing she had done, and then the remembrance of why she had done it returned, and again she forgave herself.

The next time Hoyt called, he looked very grave.

“Avice,” he said, “Avice, dear, I don’t see how I can carry that matter through. I mean about the forged note. It is sure to be found out, and then where would I be?”

“Very well,” said the girl, coldly, “then our engagement is broken. That is the one condition, that you free Kane. And you said you couldn’t do that without using the note.”

“But I can try other ways. I can try to get him off because of lack of evidence.”

“Do just as you choose, Leslie. If you free him by any means whatever, I will keep my promise and marry you, but not otherwise.”

“Avice! when you look like that, I can’t give you up! You beautiful girl! You shall be mine! I’ll stop at nothing to win you. I would do anything for you, Avice, anything! Do you understand?”

Impulsively, he took her in his arms. But she cried out, “No, Leslie, you shall not kiss me, until you have freed Kane!”

“Girl!” he cried, and clasped her roughly, “do you know how you make me feel when you insist it is all for his sake?”

“But it is! I have made no attempt to deceive you as to that.”

“Indeed you haven’t. But aren’t you ashamed to love a man who cares for another woman?”

A dear, serene light shone in Avice’s eyes. “No!” she said, “No! You don’t know what a woman’s pure love is. I ask no return, I sacrifice my heart and soul for him, because I love him. He will never know what I have done for him. But he will be free!”

“Free to marry Eleanor Black!”

“Yes, if he chooses. She is not a bad woman. She is mercenary, she never loved my uncle, and was only marrying him for his money. She is in love with Kane. I can read her like a book. And though she is older, she is congenial to him in many ways, and I hope, – I trust they will be happy together.”

Hoyt looked at the girl with a sort of reverence. She was like a willing martyr in a holy cause, and if her sacrifice was founded on falsehood, it was none the less noble.

“You are a saint,” he cried; “but you are mine! Oh, Avice, you shall yet love me, and not that usurper. May we announce our engagement at once?”

“No; you seem to forget you haven’t won me yet!”

“But I will! I cannot fail with such a glorious prize at stake!”

“You never can do that, except by freeing the man I do love!”

Hoyt’s brow contracted, but he made no complaint. Truly, he had been told often enough of Avice’s reasons for marrying him, and as he had accepted her terms, he had no right to cavil at them.

CHAPTER XVII
MADAME ISIS

“Yep, Miss Avice, I gotter go. Judge Hoyt, he’s got me a norful good place in a lawyer’s office, an’ I’m goin’ to get quite a bunch o’ money offen it. I do hate to leave this little ole town, but I don’t wanta trow down that swell job in Philly. So I come over to say goo’by, an’ if you’ll lemme I’d like to wish you well.”

Fibsy was embarrassed, as he always was in the presence of gentlefolk. The boy was so honestly ambitious, and tried so hard to overcome his street slang and to hide his ignorance of better language, that he usually became incoherent and tongue-tied.

“I’m glad, Fibsy,” Avice said, for she somehow liked to use his funny nickname, “that Judge Hoyt did get you a good position and I hope you’ll make good in it.”

“Yes’m, I sure hope so, but you see I’d doped it out to stay an’ help you out on this here case o’ yourn. I mean about Mr. Trowbridge – you know – ”

“Yes, I know, Fibsy, and it’s kind of you to take such interest, but, I doubt if so young a boy as you are could be of much real help, and so it’s as well for you to go to a good employer, where you’ll have a chance to learn – ”

“Yes, Miss Avice,” Fibsy interrupted impatiently, “an’ I begs you’ll fergive me, but I wanta ask you sumpum’ ’fore I go. Will you – would you – ”

“Well, say it, child, don’t be afraid,” Avice smiled pleasantly at him.

“Yes’m. Would you – ” his eyes roved round the room, – “would you now, gimme some little thing as a soovyneer of Mr. Trowbridge? I was orful fond of him, – I was.”

“Why, of course, I will,” said Avice, touched by the request. “Let me see,” she looked about the library table, “here’s a silver envelope opener my uncle often used. Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes’m – thank you lots, Miss Avice, and I guess I better be goin’ – ”

“Terence,” and Avice, struck by a sudden thought, looked the boy straight in the face, “Terence, that isn’t what you started to ask, – is it? Answer me truly.”

The blue eyes fell and then, lifted again, looked at her frankly.

“No, ma’am it ain’t. No, Miss Avice, I – I fibbed, I was a-goin’ to ask you sumpum else.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It was one o’ them sudden jerks o’ my thinker, ’at makes me fib sometimes, when I least expect to. I dunno what that thing is, but it trips me up, lots o’ times, an’, Miss Avice, I always just hafto fib when it comes, an’ – ” his voice lowered to a whisper, “an’ I’m always glad I done it!”

“Glad you fibbed! Oh, Terence! I thought Judge Hoyt lectured you about that habit.”

“Yes’m, he did, ’m. But there’s times when I gotter, – jest simpully gotter, an’ that’s all there is about it!”

Somewhat shamefaced, the boy stood, twirling his cap.

“You’re a funny boy, Fibsy,” said Avice, smiling a little at the disturbed countenance.

“Yes’m, I am, Miss: but honust, I ain’t so bad as I look. An’ I don’t tell lies, – not up-and-downers. But they’s times – yes’m, there sure is times – oh, pshaw, a lady like you don’t know nothin’ ’bout it! Say, Miss Avice, kin I keep the cutter thing, all the same?”

“Yes, you may keep that” and Avice spoke a little gravely, “and Fibsy, let it be a reminder to you not to tell naughty stories.”

“Oh, I don’t, Miss, truly, I don’t do that. The fibs I tell ain’t what you’d call stories. They’s fer a purpose – always fer a purpose.”

The earnestness in his tone was unmistakable, whatever its reason for being, and something about him gave Avice a feeling of confidence in his trustworthiness, notwithstanding his reputation.

He went away, awkwardly blurting out a good-by, and then darting from the room in a very spasm of shyness.

“Funny little chap,” said Avice to Eleanor Black, telling her of the interview.

“Horrid little gamin!” was the response. “I’m glad he’s going to Philadelphia; you were becoming too chummy with him altogether. And I think he’s too forward. He oughtn’t to be allowed to come in the house.”

“Don’t fuss, Eleanor. He won’t be here any more, so rest easy on that question.”

And then the two began to discuss again the question that was all-absorbing and never finished, – the subject of Kane’s arrest.

Avice had concluded not to ask Eleanor of her previous acquaintance with Landon, for they had practically joined forces in an effort to prove his innocence, and Avice wanted to keep friends with the older woman, at least until she had learned all Eleanor could tell her in friendship’s confidences.

So they talked, hours at a time, and not once had Eleanor implied by word or hint, that she had known Landon in Denver. And yet Avice was sure she had, and meant to find out sooner or later from Kane himself.

But she rarely had opportunity of seeing him, and almost never alone. On her infrequent visits to him at The Tombs, she was accompanied by Judge Hoyt, and, too, Landon, was morose and taciturn of late, so that the interviews were not very satisfactory.

He had been indicted by the Grand Jury, and was awaiting trial in a very different frame of mind from the one he had shown on his arrest.

The prosecuting attorney was hard at work preparing the case. As is often the condition in a great criminal affair, there were antagonistic elements in the matters of detection and prosecution. The district attorney did not always agree with the police, nor they with the press and general public.

The personal friends and members of the family, too, had their own ideas, and each was equally anxious to prove evidence or establish a case.

The police had done well, but their work had to be supplemented by Whiting and his own detectives, and evidence had to be sifted and tabulated, statements put in writing and sworn to, and much detail work looked after.

Avice chafed at the delay, but Judge Hoyt assured her it was necessary, and asserted that he, too, had much to do to prepare his case for the defence.

So the days dragged by, and one afternoon, when a stranger was announced, Avice said she would see her, in sheer hope of diversion. And a diversion it proved.

The visitor was a middle-aged woman of the poorer class, but of decent appearance and address.

But she had a mysterious air, and spoke only in whispers. Her large dark eyes were deep-set, and glittered as with an uncanny light. Her thin lips drew themselves in, as if with a determination to say no more than was needful to make known her meaning. Her pale face showed two red spots on the high cheek bones, and two deep lines between her eyes bespoke earnest intentness of purpose.

“I am Miss Barham,” she said, by way of introduction, and paused as if for encouragement to proceed.

“Yes,” said Avice, kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, Miss Trowbridge. I am here to do something for you.” Her voice was so piercing, though not loud and her eyes glittered so strangely, Avice drew back a little, in fear.

“Don’t be scared,” said Miss Barham, reassuringly. “I mean no harm to you or yours. Quite the contrary. I come to bring you assistance.”

“Of what sort?” and Avice grew a little impatient. “Please state your errand.”

“Yes, I will. I have had a revelation.”

“A dream?”

“No, not a dream – not a vision, – ” the speaker now assumed a slow, droning voice, “but a revelation. It concerned you, Miss Avice Trowbridge. I did not know you, but I had no difficulty in learning of your position and your home. The revelation was this. If you will go to Madame Isis, you will be told how to learn the truth of the mystery of your uncle’s death.”

Avice curled her lip slightly, in a mild scorn of this statement. The caller was, then, only an advertising dodge for some clairvoyant or medium. A charlatan of some sort.

“I thank you for your thoughtfulness,” she said, rising, “but I must beg you to excuse me. I am not interested in such things.”

“Wait!” and the woman held out a restraining hand, and something in her voice compelled Avice to listen further.

“You are perhaps interested in the freedom or conviction of Mr. Landon.”

“But I do not wish to consult a clairvoyant regarding that.”

“I have not called Madame Isis a clairvoyant.”

“Your allusion to her gives me that impression. Isn’t she one?”

“She is a seer of the future, but she reads the stars. Oh, do not tamper with fate! If you go to her she will give you definite and exact direction for finding the real murderer, and it is not the man named Kane Landon. No, it is not!”

The tones were dramatic, but they carried a certain conviction.

“Who are you?” asked Avice. “You do not seem yourself like a fraudulent person, and yet – ”

“I am not! I am a plain American woman. I was a schoolteacher, but I have not taught of late years. I – I live at home now.”

There was a simple dignity in her way of speaking, as if she regretted the days of her school work. But she quickly returned to her melodramatic pleading; “Go, I beg of you, go, to Madame Isis. Can you afford not to when she can tell you the truth, or the way to the truth?”

“What do you mean by the way to the truth? Where is she? No, I will not go! How dare you come to me with this rubbish?”

Avice was getting excited now. She was suddenly aware of a mad longing to see this clairvoyant, whoever she might be. It could do no harm, at any rate. But even as these thoughts went through her brain, came others of the absurdity of the thing she was thinking. Go to a clairvoyant to learn how to save Kane! Well, why not?

“Why not?” said Miss Barham, almost like an echo. “It can do no harm and it will show the way to the light.”

“Are you a fraud?” and Avice suddenly stooped and looked into the woman’s eyes, taking her off her guard.

“No,” she replied so simply and calmly that for the first time Avice believed she was not.

“No, I am no fraud. I tell you truly, if you go to Isis, she will tell you. If you do not, you will never know, and,” – she paused, “you will regret it all your life.”

The last words, spoken in an emphatic and impressive manner, were accompanied by a nod of the head, and the speaker moved toward the door. “That is all,” she said, as she paused on the threshold, “I have told you. You may do as you choose, but it will be an eternal regret if you fail to do my bidding.”

She was gone, and Avice, bewildered, sat quiet for a moment. “How absurd,” she thought, as soon as she could think coherently at all. “Fancy my going to a clairvoyant, or seer or whatever she called her! And anyway, I don’t know where the Isis person is.”

Then, chancing to look down at the table near her, she saw a card lying there. Immediately she knew what it was and that the woman had left it. She picked it up, and saw the address of a palmist and fortune-teller in Longacre Square.

“I’ll never go there,” she said to herself, but she put the card away in a book.

It was after only two or three brown studies over the queerness of the thing that she started for the address given. She had a subconsciousness that she had known all along that she would go, but she had to persuade herself first. That she had done, almost without knowing it, and now she was on her way. She had told no one, for she hadn’t even yet acknowledged to herself that she would go in, only that she would go and look at the place.

It was in an office building, unpretentious and altogether ordinary. She went up in the elevator and looked at the door that bore the given number. And in another moment she was inside.

It was the usual sort of place, decently furnished, but commonplace of atmosphere and appointments. There was no attempt at an air of mystery, no velvet hangings or deep alcoves. The room was light and cheerful. As Avice waited, a young woman came in. She wore a trailing robe and her pale gray eyes had a mystic far-seeing gaze.

“You want a reading?” she asked in a low, pleasant voice.

“I do if you can tell me one thing I want to know,” replied Avice, a little bluntly, for she had no faith in the seer’s powers.

“I am Isis,” and the clairvoyant or astrologer or whatever she called herself, looked at her client closely. “I think I can tell you what you wish to know, better, by gazing in my crystal.”

She went to her table, and taking a crystal ball from its case set it on a black velvet cushion. Then resting her chin on her hands she stared into the changing depths of the limpid crystal.

Avice watched her. Surely, if she were a fraud, she had most sincere and convincing manners. There was no attempt at effect or pretense of occult power.

After a time, Isis began in her soft, low voice: “I see a man in danger of his life. He is dear to you. I do not know who he is or what he has done, but his life is in grave danger. Ah, there is his salvation. I see a man who can save him. The man who is to save him must be summoned quickly, yes, even at once. Waste no time. Call him to you.”

“Who is he?” and Avice breathlessly awaited the answer.

“Fleming Stone. He is the only hope for the doomed man. Fleming Stone will rescue him from peril, but he must come soon. Call him.”

“Who is Fleming Stone? Where can I find him?”

“He is a detective. The greatest detective in the city. Maybe, in the country. But he is the one. None other can do it. It is all. You do your own will, but that is the truth.”

Isis turned from the crystal, looking a little weary. She raised her pale eyes to Avice’s anxious face, and said, “Will you obey?”

“I don’t know. How can I call a detective? I am pretty sure my advisers will not approve of calling another detective on the case, for it is a case. A criminal affair.”

Avice found herself talking to the clairvoyant as if she had known her a long time. It seemed as if she had. She could not have said that she liked the personality of Isis, but neither did she dislike it. She seemed to Avice more of a force than a person. She seemed to have no particular individuality, rather to be merely a mouthpiece for otherwise unavailable knowledge.

Avice rose to go. “That is all?” she said.

“That is all, but will you not consent to save this man?”

“Is there no hope else?”

“None. It rests with you. You will agree to call Mr. Stone?”

Compelled by the glance, almost hypnotic, that the seeress bent upon her, Avice said “Yes,” involuntarily.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“You will tell no one until after you have summoned Stone.” This was an assertion rather than a question, and Isis went on. “You can find his address in the telephone book, and then write him a letter. Tell him he must come to you, – but stay, – can you afford it?”

“Is it a great price?”

“As such things go, yes. But not more than a person in fairly good circumstances can pay.”

“I can afford it, then.”

Avice paid the fee of Madame Isis, and went away in a daze. Not so much at the directions she had received, as at the fact of this woman knowing about Kane and knowing that it was a case for a great detective. For it was, Avice felt sure of that. She had become conscious of late, of undercurrents of mystery, of wheels within wheels, and she could not rest for vague, haunting fears of evil still being done, of crime yet to be committed. The whole effect of the clairvoyant’s conversation heightened these feelings, and Avice was glad to be advised to seek out Stone. She had heard of him, but only casually; she knew little of his work and had but a dim impression that he stood high in his profession.

She went to the nearest telephone booth and found his address. But she remembered she had been told to write him, not telephone.

So, not waiting to get home, and also, with a view toward secrecy, she stopped in at one of her clubs, and wrote to Fleming Stone, urging him to take this case, and promising any fee he might ask.

Then, feeling she had burnt her bridges behind her, or, rather that she was building a new bridge in front of her, Avice went home.