ore a beard. Incidentally they gave Dave the number of their Stony
Island residence.

'We shan't have much trouble to find the Camps,' Dave said in
concluding his narration. 'The old lady has taken a great fancy for
the Liberal Arts Building, and she generally spends her time sitting
upon a chair in the centre of Columbia Avenue and admiring at her
leisure. She says she "'d ruther see things in the lump, sort of." And
I believe they take a walk every morning around the Plaza, the Court,
the Peristyle, and then up the lake shore from Victoria House, which
she won't enter--because she "hates old England and all the
Englishers"--to the point where Fifty-seventh Street drops into Lake
Michigan. And every afternoon, I verily believe, they walk arm-in-arm
up and down the length of Midway, without stopping or entering
anywhere.'

In our summing up we found we had accomplished very little legitimate
business. We had established the fact that Greenback Bob was at the
Fair, and the presumption was strong, amounting almost to a certainty,
that Delbras was also there. We had connected the man Smug with one,
if not both, for Dave was sure that the man's companion on Stony
Island Avenue was Delbras, and now this brunette, whom I believed to
be a man in woman's attire, seemed to be identifying herself, or
himself, with the 'gang.'

'If you can prove that the brunette's a man or boy,' said Dave, 'then
I'll say don't look farther for the third party who came with Delbras
from France; and if that should prove the case, tell me, what designs
have this gang upon Miss--what do you call her?'

I started. It was Dave who was growing imaginative now. And yet----

'I had only thought of the brunette as having seen the bag fall, and
hoping for a find,' I said doubtfully.

'Then how did you account for her being at the entrance gate two days
after?' queried Dave scornfully.

'Supposing it to have been an accidental meeting, I fancied she might
have thought of telling Miss Jenrys what she knew of her loss, hoping
for a reward, perhaps.'

'Carl, you are growing stupid! You have thought too much of the blonde
and not enough of the brunette! Think! In the first instance both are
alone; Miss J. drops her bag; why does this particular--well, say
woman for the present--why does this woman see it? She must have been
some paces behind, or you would have seen her; or if not you, the
guard, or even the young lady herself. That brunette was shadowi