a woman. Moreover in such a case she would scarcely seek him out here in
this private home, where he was merely a transient guest; he would never
venture to use a place like this as a rendezvous. That was unthinkable.
Some other purpose, demanding immediate attention, must furnish the
reason for her venturing to enter this house at such an hour, and coming
directly to the room where she supposed Coolidge to be sleeping. To
West's mind there could be but one answer. The two were mutually involved
in a conspiracy of some nature, undoubtedly connected with the
approaching settlement of the Coolidge estate. This girl, so strangely
resembling Natalie, had in some way been discovered by the scheming
guardian, who was now using her for his own selfish ends. The plot had
been carefully perfected, and the time must now be near for execution.
This girl had been selected, and trained to act a part--the part of
Natalie Coolidge. Her ability to deceive had been tested in various
ways. Now the moment approached when they were ready to play out the real
game. Yet the nature of that game was in no way apparent. He could only
keep quiet, and wait for some further development, even appear
indifferent, while he secretly watched every suspicious movement of
Percival Coolidge.

It was not at all probable the satchel contained any incriminating
evidence, yet the temptation was strong to obtain, if possible, a hasty
glance at the contents. But for this he was already too late, scarcely
reaching the room indeed, before Sexton appeared, announcing his mission.
West, perched on the arm of a chair, smoking, and watched the man bring
forth the valise, and start toward the door.

"Coolidge tells me he usually occupied this room," he ventured curiously,
"How did it happen I was put in here?"