se she was
big-hearted and interested in every one's troubles, she urged him to
accompany her to a near-by restaurant and pour out his heart while she
supped. Lonely and disheartened, Valois accepted gladly and within
half an hour they were seated at a tiny table in an Italian cafe.

"About your discharge?" she queried after a time.

"I was not even asked to accompany Mr. Frederick's body," he burst out,
"even though I had been with him a year. So I stayed in the apartment
to straighten things, expecting to be retained in John Cavendish's
service. I even did the work in his apartments, but when he returned
and saw me there he seemed to lose his temper, wanted to know why I was
hanging around, and ordered me out of the place."

"The ingrate!" exclaimed the girl, laying a warm, consoling hand on the
other's arm. "You're sure he wasn't drinking?"

"I don't think so, miss. Just the sight of me seemed to drive him mad.
Flung money at me, he did, told me to get out, that he never wanted to
see me again. Since then I have tried for three weeks to find work,
but it has been useless."

While she gave him a word of sympathy, Miss Donovan was busily
thinking. She remembered Willis's remark in the apartments, "Are you
sure of the dead man's identity? His face is badly mutilated, you
know"; and her alert mind sensed a possibility of a newspaper story
back of young Cavendish's unwarranted and strange act. How far could
she question the man before her? That she had established herself in
his good grace she was sure, and to be direct with him she decided
would be the best course to adopt.

"Mr. Valois," she said kindly, "would you mind if I asked you a
question or two more?"

"No," the man returned.

"All right. First, what sort of a man was your master?"

Valois answered almost with reverence:

"A nice, quiet gentleman. A man that liked outdoors and outdoor
sports. He almost never drank, and then only with quiet men like
himself that he met at various clubs. Best of all, he liked to spend
his evenings at home reading."

"Not much like his cousin John," she ventured with narrowing eyes.

"No, ma'am, God be praised! There's a young fool for you, miss, crazy
for the women and his drinking. Brought up to spend money, but not to
earn any."

"I understand that he was dependent upon Frederick Cavendish."

"He was, miss," Valois said disgustedly, "for every cent. He could
never get enough of it, either, alth