"I can't let you come in. Go away, _please._"

And then the door closed, in my very face, and though I pleaded,
"Vicky, _do_ let me in!" there was no response.




CHAPTER IX

THE SOCIAL SECRETARY


I stood staring at the closed door. What did it mean? Why was Vicky in
there and why wouldn't she let me come in?

Then, as I collected my wits, I laughed at myself. I knew why she was
there--to get her mail. Doubtless there were important letters that
she must have, and she had dared discovery to come at dead of night to
get them. The patrolman was not in sight. She had looked out for this,
of course. It was the merest chance that I had seen her, otherwise she
would have escaped all observation. At three in the morning there are
almost no people abroad in the quieter streets of the city, and Vicky
had timed her visit well. Of course, she had her own keys, and I felt
sure she had stealthily entered at the basement door, and waited her
time to secure the letters from the mail-box.

I looked at the mail-box, an unusual appendage to a private residence,
but Vicky was away from home so much, it was doubtless necessary. I
tried to look in at a window, but all shades were down and there were