e started out by reminding me that her property had been left
to her absolutely, to do as she pleased with; a point which I, of
course, conceded. She then went on to say that she knew of a number of
bequests her father had intended to make before his death, and which
he would have made if he had not been cut off so suddenly; that the
bequests were of such a nature that he did not wish his name to appear
in them, and that she was going to undertake to carry them out
anonymously."

"Well?" asked our junior again.

"Well," said Mr. Graham slowly, "she asked me to dispose at once of
such of her securities as I thought best, in order that I might place
in her hands by to-morrow night one hundred thousand dollars in
cash--a cool hundred thousand!"

CHAPTER VIII

The Mysterious Maid

"A hundred thousand dollars!" ejaculated Mr. Royce, and sat staring at
his chief.

"A hundred thousand dollars! That's a good deal for a girl to give
away in a lump, but she can afford it. Of course, we've nothing to do
but carry out her instructions. I think both of us can guess what she
intends doing with the money."

The other nodded. I believed that I could guess, too. The money, of
course, was intended for the other woman--she was not to suffer for
her crime, after all. Miss Holladay seemed to me in no little danger
of becoming an accessory after the fact.

"She seems really ill," continued our senior. "She looks thinner and
quite careworn. I commended her resolution to seek rest and quiet and
change of scene."

"When does she go, sir?" asked Mr. Royce, in a subdued voice.

"The day after to-morrow, I think. She did not say definitely. In
fact, she could talk very little. She's managed to catch cold--the
grip, I suppose--and was very hoarse. It would have been cruelty to
make her talk, and I didn't try."

He wheeled around to his desk, and then suddenly back again.

"By the way," he said, "I saw the new maid. I can't say I wholly
approve of her."

He paused a minute, weighing his words.

"She seems careful and devoted," he went on, at last, "but I don't
like her eyes. They're too intense. I caught her two or three times
watching me strangely. I can't imagine where Miss Holladay picked her
up, or why she should have picked her up at all. She's French, of
course--she speaks with a decided accent. About the money, I suppose
we'd better sell a block of U. P. bonds. They're the least productive
of her securities."

"Y