"Oh!" said he. "All right. I was beginning to think that something was
up. You see," and here he lowered his voice, "I danced with her about
midnight at Mrs. Barron's; about two o'clock her aunt, Mrs. Page, came
to me in great distress and said she was strangely missing. She had
slipped away somewhere without a word."

Ashton-Kirk looked at him keenly.

"Of course it was up to me to find her," said Pendleton; "but my
efforts were without result. Her car was gone, and the man said Miss
Vale had called it about one o'clock; also that she had driven away in
it alone.

"At this news Mrs. Page grew quite ill, and I brought her home here in
my car. Then I departed upon a vague sort of search. As the matter was
to be kept perfectly quiet and I was to ask no questions of anybody,
you can imagine how much chance I had of doing anything. But if she's
at home, it's all right. At sight of you I thought it had proved to be
something alarming and that they had sent for you."

"I _was_ sent for," said Ashton-Kirk, dryly, "but not to hunt for Miss
Vale. Now jump in here and come along; I've got a little matter that
may be of interest."

"I haven't had breakfast," said Pendleton; "but there's always
something piquant to your little affairs. I'll go you."

He dismissed his own car and climbed into that of his friend. As they
whirled up the street, Ashton-Kirk suddenly directed his driver to
stop. Then he called to a man with a great bundle of newspapers who