Shirley's eyes the sparkle of a presentiment of success. At
last Van Cleft admitted that he could hear.

"Well, you fool, I've a message for your friend Mr. Van Cleft."

"Which one?" was the innocent inquiry, as he forgot for an
instant that now he was the sole bearer of that name.

"The one that's left. Tell him there will be none left if he
continues this gum-shoe work. He had better let well enough
alone, and let that little girl get out of town as soon as
possible. The papers will go crazy over a scandal like this, and
some one is apt to grab Van Cleft. That's all. Good-bye!"

Silently Shirley shut off the lever of the machine, to catch up
the receiver. As before his endeavor to locate the call resulted
in a new address: this time in the Bronx!

"Ah, the lady leaps from the business district to the Bronx in
half an hour. That is what I call some traveling."

Van Cleft studied him with open mouth, as he withdrew the
phonograph record, coating it with the preservative to make the
tiny lines permanent.

"In the name of common sense, who was that? And what's this
phonograph game?" he demanded.

"The second question may answer the first before sunrise, unless
I am badly mistaken. I have heard an old adage which declares