n to go," said the investigator,
as they alighted. "There is scarcely an old residential street left
unmarred in the big cities of the east."

"That is Nora's house--there with the scaffolding at the side. Take care
you don't step in that mortar. These fellows seem to slap their stuff
around and don't give a hang."

"I had no idea Miss Cavanaugh lived in this section," said Ashton-Kirk,
after Scanlon had rung the bell, and they stood waiting on the steps.

"Why, you see, she's different. Naturally, she's a housekeeper. The big
hotel or the glittering apartment house doesn't appeal to her. She gets
all that when she's on the road."

A trim maid admitted them and showed them into a room hung with
beautiful tapestry and excellently selected paintings. In a few moments
there came a light hasty step and Nora stood framed in the doorway. She
wore a sort of soft, gauzy robe-like thing which clung to her
magnificently strong, yet completely youthful figure, causing her more
than ever to resemble a young Juno. The gleaming bronze hair was
gathered in a great coil at the back of her head; her wonderfully
modeled arms were bare; the right was clasped about with a heavy
bracelet of what seemed raw, red gold.

"Bat!" she said, gladly, and then stopped short at sight of a stranger.

"This is Mr. Ashton-Kirk," said Scanlon, presenting his companion.
"You've heard me speak of him, I think."

Nora Cavanaugh held out her hand with that frankness which is always so
fascinating in a beautiful woman.

"I am very glad to see you," she said. "And I recall very well what I
heard of you. It was that queer affair of the Campes, and the strange
dangers which haunted the hills about their country place." Her eyes
were fixed steadily upon Ashton-Kirk as she spoke; the smile of welcome
was still in them; but behind this there was something else--a something
which evidently interested Ashton-Kirk intensely.

"I've been telling Kirk of the thing at Stanwick," spoke Scanlon, as
they all three sat down at a west window, through which the lowering sun
was throwing its crimsoning touch. "He's a little interested and thought
he'd like to hear what you had to say."

The smile went completely out of Nora's eyes; the sombre thing at the
back of them came at once to the surface; and Ashton-Kirk saw her hand,
as she lifted it to her face, tremble.

"The police are fools!" she declared. "Frank Burton is innocent. It is
shameful to attribute any crim