I could only shake my head sadly. She sighed. Involuntarily she
rose and together we moved toward the garden, the last place we
had seen him about the house.

We had been pacing up and down the garden talking earnestly only a
short time when a man made his way in from the Fifth Avenue gate.

"Is this Miss Dodge?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied eagerly.

Neither Elaine nor I knew him at the time, though I think she
thought he might be the bearer of some message from Craig. As a
matter of fact he was the emissary to whom the stenographer had
thrown the torpedo model from the Navy Building in Washington.

His visit was only a part of a deep-laid scheme. Only a few
minutes before, three crooks--among them our visitor--had stopped
just below the house on a side street. To him the others had given
final instructions and a note, and he had gone on, leaving the two
standing there.

"I have a note for you," he said, bowing and handing an envelope
to Elaine, which she tore open and read.

WASHINGTON, D. C.

MISS ELAINE DODGE, Fifth Avenue, New York.