south delivery-door. We are loading cars to-night
from this side of the building, and she took a flying advantage of it.
Men give way to a woman. Though there's an order against any such use of
that door, you can't get one of them to hold onto a woman when she once
gets it into her head to skip the premises. But she can't have gone far.
This is a place of few houses and no big buildings besides the factory.
If you take pains to head her off at the station, you'll be safe for
to-night, and in the morning you can easily find her. Now I must go; but
first, what was her offense? Theft, eh?"

"No. This woman whom we have let slip through our fingers is Madame
Duclos, the mother of the girl shot in a New York museum. There is a big
reward out for her recovery and detention, and----"

The superintendent stood aghast.

"Why didn't you say so? Why didn't you say so at once? I'd have had the
whole troop file out before you. I'd have had----"

The detective caught at his hat.

"I wasn't aware that I had reached an age when I couldn't tell the
difference between a reflection and a reality," he growled, and hurried
out.

The town was a small one; and Perry would see that she didn't escape from
the station. Besides, she had fled without her hat. Surely, with all this
in his favor, he would soon be able to lay his hand upon her, if not
to-night, certainly before another day was at an end.

XXIV

FLIGHT

In leaving the building Mr. Gryce almost ran into the arms of Perry. In
his anxiety to be within call, the young detective had seated himself on
the steps outside and now stood ready for any emergency.

Mr. Gryce's spirits rose as he saw him there. The great door leading to
the elevator opened not twenty feet to the left of him. Perhaps Perry had
seen the woman and could tell which way she ran. Questions followed,
rapid and to the purpose. Perry had seen a woman flash by. But she seemed
to be in company with a man. He had not been able to see either clearly.

"Which way were they heading?" asked Mr. Gryce.

Perry told him.

It would look as though they were making for the station. Alarmed at the
idea, Mr. Gryce stepped down into the road and endeavored to pierce the
darkness in that direction. All he could see were the station lights.
Everything else was in shadow. The night hung over all, and had it not
been for the grinding of machinery in their rear, the silence would have
been just as marked.

"Perry, is