hands preferred to think that "Mame Denison was a sly one, and
warn't goin' to let on, fear some one'd git ahead of her."

Lena, who came shortly, in her usual dress, fostered this feeling,
not from malice, but from sheer love of excitement and gossip. In
spite of Mary's efforts, the excitement increased, and when, late in
the afternoon, word came that Mary Denison was wanted in the office,
the rag-room was left fairly bubbling with wild surmise.

Mr. Gordon did not see Mary when she came in. He was standing at his
desk, with an open letter in his hand, and his face was disturbed as
he spoke to the senior clerk.

"Myers, it is as I feared about that bag of rags from Blankton. You
have kept it carefully tied up, and close by the chlorides, as I
told you?"

Myers, a clear-eyed, honest-browed man, looked troubled.

"I did, sir!" he said. "I have looked at the bag every time I passed
that way, and have cautioned every one in the mill not to go near it,
besides keeping the shed-gate locked; but this morning I found that
it had been tampered with, and evidently something taken out. I hope
there is nothing wrong, sir!"

George Gordon struck his hand heavily on the desk. "Wrong!" he
repeated. "There have been two fatal cases of smallpox in Blankton,
and that bag has been traced to the house where they were."

There was a moment of deathly silence. He went on: