, which is
simple almost to a fault."

"I am so happy to meet you all," said the girl. "We shall no doubt
become very good friends. For mamma and I have also come to Baldpate
Inn--to stay."

Mr. Bland opened wide his usually narrow eyes, and ran his hand
thoughtfully over his one day's beard. Professor Bolton blinked his
astonishment. Mr. Magee smiled.

"I, for one, am delighted to hear it," he said.

"My name," went on the girl, "is Mary Norton. May I present my mother,
Mrs. Norton?"

The older woman adopted what was obviously her society manner. Once
again Mr. Magee felt a pang of regret that this should be the parent of
a girl so charming.

"I certainly am pleased to meet you all," she said in her heavy voice.
"Ain't it a lovely morning after the storm? The sun's almost blinding."

"Some explanation," put in Miss Norton quickly, "is due you if I am to
thrust myself thus upon you. I am perfectly willing to tell why I am
here--but the matter mustn't leak out. I can trust you, I'm sure."

Mr. Magee drew up chairs, and the two women were seated before the fire.

"The bandits of Baldpate," he remarked flippantly, glancing at the two
men, "have their own code of honor, and the first rule is never to
betray a pal."

"Splendid!" laughed the girl. "You said, I believe, that Professor
Bolton was fleeing from the newspapers. I am fleeing for the
newspapers--to attract their attention--to lure them into giving me that
thing so necessary to a woman in my profession, publicity. You see, I am
an actress. The name I gave you is not my stage name. That, perhaps, you
would know. I employ a gentleman to keep me before the public as much as
possible. It's horrid, I know, but it means bread and butter to me. That
gentleman, my press-agent, evolved the present scheme--a mysterious
disappearance."

She paused and looked at the others. Mr. Magee surveyed her narrowly.
The youthful bloom of her cheek carried to him no story of grease paint;
her unaffected manner was far from suggesting anything remotely
connected with the stage. He wondered.

"I am to disappear completely for a time," she went on. "'As though the
earth had swallowed me' will be the good old phrase of the reporters. I
am to linger here at Baldpate Inn, a key to which my press-agent has
secured for me. Meanwhile, the papers will speak tearfully of me in
their head-lines--at least, I hope they will. Can't you just see
them--those head-lines? 'Beautiful Actress D