Miss Williams nodded a dismissal.

"Four one is Chartrands' apartment," she remarked.

"Is this the lady of the ripples?" Harleston asked, handing her the
photograph of Madeline Spencer.

"Sure thing!" she exclaimed. "That's she, all right. How in the world
did you ever--pardon me, Mr. Harleston, I shouldn't have said that."

"You're not meddling, Miss Williams. But it's a long story--too long to
detail now. Some day soon I'll confide in you, for you've helped me very
much in this matter and deserve to know. In fact, you've helped me more
than you can imagine. Meanwhile mum's the word, remember."

"Mum, it is, Mr. Harleston," she replied, "For once a telephone girl
won't leak, even to her best friends."

"I believe you," Harleston returned. "Keep your eyes open, also your
_ears_, and report to me anything of interest as to our affair."

Miss Williams answered with a knowing nod and an intimate little smile,
then swung around to answer a call. Harleston returned to his rooms. The
happenings of the recent evening were quite intelligible to him now:

When the episode of the cab of the sleeping horse occurred, Mrs. Spencer
was in the Chartrand apartment. Marston, in some way, had learned of
Harleston's participation in the cab matter, and with Sparrow had
followed him to the Collingwood, entering by the fire-escape--with the
results already seen. The noise on the fire-escape was undoubtedly made