tter which Grimes had given her on the dressing table, then went
slowly into her own bedroom. She could hear voices, which she recognized
as those of her sister and Mrs. Brewster, coming from Helen's bedroom,
but absorbed in her own thoughts she undressed in the dark and crept
into bed just as Mrs. Brewster passed down the hallway and entered her
own room. The widow had taken off her evening gown and slippers and
donned a becoming wrapper before she discovered the letter lying on the
dresser. Drawing up a chair she dropped into it, let down her long
dark hair, and settled back in luxuriant comfort against the tufted
upholstery before she ran her well-manicured finger under the flap of
the envelope. A slip of paper fell into her lap as she took out the
contents of the envelope and she let it rest there while scanning the
closely typewritten lines on the Metropolis Trust Company stationery.

Dear Mrs. Brewster, she read. Our bank teller, Mr. McDonald, has
questioned the genuineness of the signature on the inclosed check. An
important business engagement prevents my calling to-night, but please
stop at the bank early to-morrow morning.

I feel that you would prefer to have a personal investigation made
rather than have us place the matter in the hands of the police.

Yours faithfully,

BENJAMIN A. CLYMER.

The widow read the note a number of times, then bethinking herself, she
picked up the canceled check still lying in her lap, and turned it
over. Long and intently she studied the signature--the peculiarly
characteristic formation of the letter "B" caught and held her
attention. As the seconds ticked themselves into minutes she sat
immovable, her face as white as the hand on which she had bowed her
head.

Across the hall Helen McIntyre tossed from one side to the other in
her soft bed; her restless longing to get up was growing stronger and
stronger. While Mrs. Brewster's deft fingers and the cooling cologne had
stopped the throbbing in her temples, they had brought only temporary
relief in their train and not the sleep which Helen craved. She strained
her ears to discover the time by the ticking of her clock, but either it
was between the half or quarters of an hour, or it had stopped, for no
chimes sounded. With a gasp of exasperation, Helen flung back the bed
clothes and sat up. Switching on the light by the side of her bed she
hunted for a book, but not finding any, she contemplated for a short
space of time