e slip in at night? And why
should you live here in hiding?"

"You force me into a disagreeable and humiliating admission. The fact
is, our family is in severe financial straits. We simply had no money
to live on, and no prospects in sight. To help us out temporarily,
my sister Matilda invited us to stay here while Mrs. De Peyster is in
Europe. But for Mrs. De Peyster to know of our being here might cost
my sister Matilda her position, which accounts for our attempt to get
in unseen and to live here secretly. We had to protect Matilda against
the facts leaking out."

Mr. Mayfair stared searchingly at Mr. Pyecroft's face. It was
confused, as was quite natural after the confession of a not very
honorable, and certainly not very dignified, procedure. But it was
candor itself.

"Hell!" he burst out irefully. "Some one has certainly given me a bum
steer. But I'll get that young couple yet, you see!"

"I'm sorry about the story," said Mr. Pyecroft. And then with a
slight smile, apologetic, as of one who knows he is taking liberties:
"Perhaps, as compensation for the story you missed, you could write a
society story about Mrs. De Peyster's housekeeper entertaining for the
summer her brother, sister, and niece."

Mr. Mayfair grinned, ever so little. "You've got some sense of humor,
old top," he approved dryly.

"Thank you," said Mr. Pyecroft, with a gratified air.

He led Mr. Mayfair past the room within which Jack was hidden, down to
the servants' door and courteously let him out. Two minutes later
Mr. Pyecroft was again in the second maid's room. Mary eagerly sprang
forward and caught his hand.

"I waited to thank you--you were simply superb!" she cried
enthusiastically. "I've been telling your sister how wonderful you
are. She's got to forgive you--I'll make her! And Jack will die
laughing when I tell him." She herself burst into excited merriment
that half-choked her. "Just think of it--all the while he was
looking--looking a big story straight in the face!"

She was off to tell Jack.

"One might add, looking two big stories straight in the face, eh,
Angelica, my dear?" chuckled Mr. Pyecroft, _alias_ Mr. Preston.

One might add, three big stories, shivered Mrs. De Peyster.

But she did not add this aloud.

CHAPTER XVI

THE MAN IN THE CELLULOID COLLAR

The amused smile which Mr. Pyecroft had worn when he had entered,
and which he had subdued to thoughtful sobriety while "Wormwood" was
assuaging t