ss Wall Street. I believe it
has done so--not directly, but indirectly. The trail, I think, has
brought me back to the proverbial point of 'CHERCHEZ LA FEMME.' I am
delighted," he dwelt on the word to see what would be its effect, "to
see in the Graeme Mackenzie case my old friend, Constance Dunlap."

"So," she replied quietly, "you suspect ME, now. I suppose _I_ am
Graeme Mackenzie."

"No," Drummond replied dubiously, "you are not Graeme Mackenzie, of
course. You may be Mrs. Graeme Mackenzie, for all I know. But I believe
you are the receiver of Graeme Mackenzie's stolen goods!"

"You do?" she answered calmly. "That remains for you to prove. Why do
you believe it? Is it because you are ready to believe anything of me!"

"I have noticed that you are more active downtown than--"

"Oh, it is because I speculate. Have I no means of my own?" she asked
pointedly.

"Where is he? Not here, I know. But where?" insinuated Drummond with a
knowing look.

"Am I my brother's keeper?" she laughed merrily. "Come, now. Who is
this wonderful Graeme Mackenzie? First show me that I know him. You
know the rule in a murder case--you must prove the CORPUS DELICTI."

Drummond was furious. She was so baffling. That was his weak point and
she had picked it out infallibly. Whatever his suspicions, he had been
able to prove nothing, though he suspected much in the buying and
selling of Constance.

A week of bitterness, of a constant struggle against the wiles of one
of the most subtle sleuths followed, avoiding hidden traps that beset
her on every side. Was this to be the end of it all? Was Drummond's
heroic effort to entangle her to succeed at last?

She felt that a watch of the most extraordinary kind was set on her, an
invisible net woven about her. Eyes that never slept were upon her;
there was no minute in her regular haunts that she was not guarded. She
knew it, though she could not see it.

It was a war of subtle wits. Yet from the beginning Constance was the
winner of every move. She was on her mettle. They would not, she
determined, find Graeme through her.

Days passed and the detectives still had no sign of the missing man. It
seemed hopeless, but, like all good detectives, Drummond knew from
experience that a clue might come to the surface when it was least
expected. Constance on her part never relaxed.

One day it was a young woman dressed in most inconspicuous style who
followed close behind her, a woman shadow, one