o not attempt to run
their stuff into circulation around here; the most of it is put out in
Chicago. But they have been traced to this part of the country.
Detectives are at work on the case--Secret Service men, in the employ of
the government. Who these detectives are no one can say, although it has
been reported that Dan Drake is in it. Up to this time they have been
putting out tens and twenties. This fifty must be a new bit of work. And
I have something more to tell you. It is said that the queen of this
gang of counterfeiters is a beautiful young girl, who does not look to
be more than seventeen years of age. It is possible----"

But he made a gesture of anger, because such a thing should be thought
for a moment.

"It is not possible!" he said, sharply. "She is innocent of such a thing
as that! You cannot make me believe----"

He stopped, noting that the look of scorn on the face of the receiving
teller was deepening. Then, slowly and surely, the thought that the girl
had deceived him, that she was not as innocent as she looked, came upon
him. The mystery that surrounded her deepened, and a sudden longing to
know the truth grasped him.

The receiving teller laughed shortly, as he saw the changes which
flitted across the lad's face.

"There's guilt for you!" he muttered.

Frank stiffened up, giving the man a cutting look.

"What became of this girl for whom you changed two fifty-dollar bills?"
asked the cashier.

"I do not remember what became of her," declared Frank. "She was a
passenger on the Pacific Express. I left the express at Reno."

"And she went on? Bound for 'Frisco, it is likely."

Frank had not said she went on. He explained that he met a friend at
Reno, and that was how he happened to leave the express; that friend was
coming to Carson, and that was how he happened to come to Carson.

He did not tell that they had followed the girl to Carson, had shadowed
her to the house where she had stopped, and that his companion or
himself had watched that house constantly, ever since.

"Bart is watching it now," he told himself. "She can't get away. She
must explain to me how that bogus money came into her possession. I
believe I know! The man with the black mustache must have given it to
her!"

That the man with the sinister mustache was a villain he did not doubt,
but he still doubted that the girl was anything but what she
seemed--young, innocent, incapable of crime.

The cashier spoke a low