ive body.

The gentleman seated at the window laughed quietly, in sympathy.

"You'll be all right, though, Ross," the Sheriff continued, "as long
as you're with me. Auntie Sue and me have been friends for about twenty
year, now. I always stop to see her whenever I'm passing through the
Elbow Rock neighborhood, if I ain't in too big a hurry. Stayed with her
a week, once, five years ago, when we was after that Lewis gang.
She knows I'd jail any man on earth that would even touch one of her
sunsets."

Then, as if the jesting allusion to his office reminded him of his
professional duties, he added: "I plumb forgot, Auntie Sue, this
gentleman is Mr. Ross. He is one of William J. Burns's crack detectives.
Don't be scared, though, he ain't after you."

Auntie Sue, while joining in the laughter, and acknowledging the
introduction, regarded the business-looking gentleman by the window with
intense interest.

"I think," she said, slowly,--and the sweetness of her low, cultured
voice was very marked in contrast to the Sheriff's thundering tones,--"I
think, sir, that this is the first time in my life that I ever saw a
real detective. I have read about them, of course."

Mr. Ross was captivated by the charm of this beautiful old gentlewoman,
who regarded him with such child-like interest, and who spoke with such
sweet frankness and dignity. Smilingly, he returned:

"I fear, madam, that you would find me very disappointing. No one that I
ever knew in my profession could hope to live up to the reputation
given us by the story-books. No secret service man living can remotely
approximate the deeds performed by the detectives of fiction. We are
very, very human, I can assure you."

"I am sure that you, at least, must be very kind," returned Auntie
Sue, gently. And the cheeks of the experienced officer flushed like the
cheeks of a schoolboy.

"Mr. Ross, Auntie Sue," said the Sheriff, "is, as I was telling you, one
of William J. Burns's big men."

Auntie Sue gave her attention to her big friend: "Yes?"

The Sheriff continued: "Now, the Burns people, you see, protect the
banks all over the country."

"Yes?" came, again, in a tone so low and gentle that the monosyllable
was scarcely heard.

The officer's loud voice went on: "And Mr. Ross, here, works most of
his time on these bank cases. Just now, he is trailing a fellow that got
away with a lot of money from the Empire Consolidated Savings Bank, of
Chicago, about a month ag