one so
himself, and was merely testing her much vaunted discernment.

Piqued by the thought, she carefully reread the manuscript, and when she
had again reached its uncompromising end, she gave herself up to a few
minutes of concentrated thought, then, taking a sheet of paper from the
rack before her, she wrote upon it a single sentence, and folding the
sheet, put it in an envelope which she left unaddressed. This done, she
went to bed and slept like the child she really was.

At an early hour the next morning she entered her employer's office.
Acknowledging with a nod his somewhat ceremonious bow, she handed him
the envelope in which she had enclosed that one mysterious sentence.

He took it with a smile, opened it offhand, glanced at what she had
written, and flushed a vivid red.

"You are a--brick," he was going to say, but changed the last word to
one more in keeping with her character and appearance. "Look here. I
expected this from you and so prepared myself." Taking out a similar
piece of paper from his own pocket-book, he laid it down beside hers
on the desk before him. It also held a single sentence and, barring
a slight difference of expression, the one was the counterpart of the
other. "The one loose stone," he murmured.

"Seen and noted by both."

"Why not?" he asked. Then as she glanced expectantly his way, he
earnestly added: "Together we may be able to do something. The reward
offered by Mrs. Hasbrouck for the detection of the murderer was a very
large one. She is a woman of means. I have never heard of its being
withdrawn."

"Then it never has been," was Violet's emphatic conclusion, her dimples
enforcing the statement as only such dimples can. "But--what do you want
of me in an affair of this kind? Something more than to help you locate
the one possible clue to further enlightenment. You would not have
mentioned the big reward just for that."

"Perhaps not. There is a sequel to the story I sent you. I have written
it out, with my own hand. Take it home and read it at your leisure. When
you see into what an unhappy maze my own inquiries have led me, possibly
you will be glad to assist me in clearing up a situation which is
inflicting great suffering on one whom you will be the first to pity.
If so, a line mentioning the fact will be much appreciated by me." And
disregarding her startled look and the impetuous shaking of her head, he
bowed her out with something more than his accustomed suavity b