ters up to this time, and after having
saved them so carefully, why now should she have torn them up and
evidently attempted to destroy them?"

The letters had followed the woman to many places, now a small town in
Louisiana, now Dallas, Texas, then St. Paul, Minnesota and so on.
Sometimes they were addressed to Miss E. Dingus, sometimes Margery
Dubois; sometimes Hester Broughton. Sometimes they were sent to a
street number, but often to General Delivery. Mention was often made of
the children and usually in rather impatient terms. The following are
extracts from the letters:

"Don't let the brats worry you but you had better not let anything
happen to them."

"Get a doctor if the pests are sick, because we don't want
investigations."

"If they keep on insisting on going back to their mother just tell them
she is dead."

"Caution them not to tell anything about themselves and if need be
intimidate them. Polly can remember too much."

"Keep up and don't get too tired of your job. There will be an end of
it sometime and you will receive your reward."

"Of course I mean to marry you as soon as I can arrange our affairs. It
is important to go carefully for a while. Don't let the kids know there
is any possibility of our marrying. Be sure and burn all of my
letters."

"M. W. is safe behind bars. S. W.'s will has been probated, it being
certain now that he is dead. I am sole executor and guardian of the
children in case his wife should pass away without a will. She will I
am sure."

"The infamous wretch!" exclaimed Josie,

In many of the letters there was a response to a plea for money and
more money. "I send you all I can spare. Don't let the brats spend so
much. They have been spoiled by too much indulgence already."

"Humph! Pickle and cream puffs for breakfast!" stormed Josie. "Mr.
Chester Hunt I certainly hope to make you squirm. But I wish I could
find out why Dink gave up the kiddies and why she destroyed her
more-or-less love letters."

Every torn letter was pieced together and the contents mastered before
Josie heard the dinner bell. The other communications appeared to be of
little value--letters from theatrical persons from different parts of
the country and a few from some man who signed himself "Mike." The
letters from Mike, Josie put in a packet to themselves. "She may have
another man on the string," she mused. "Mike may be our trump card, the
joker."

All of Mike's letters were addressed to