"What's wrong with that name?"

"Nothing. Only I'm a bit surprised."

And he frowned with a puzzled, wistful expression, staring straight
ahead like a man striving to solve a great riddle.




CHAPTER III


SOCIAL SUICIDE

At his box, Woodbury stopped only to huddle into his coat and overcoat
and pull his hat down over his eyes. Then he hurried on toward an exit,
but even this slight delay brought the reporters up with him. They had
scented news as the eagle sights prey far below, and then swooped down
on him. He continued his flight shaking off their harrying questions,
but they kept up the running fight and at the door one of them reached
his side with: "It's Mr. Woodbury of the Westfall Polo Club, son of Mr.
John Woodbury of Anson Place?"

Anthony Woodbury groaned with dismay and clutched the grinning reporter
by the arm.

"Come with me!"

Prospects of a scoop of a sizable nature brightened the eyes of the