ly, "five or six, eh? How many times have you
called during, say, the past month?"

Von Barwig shook his head; he could not remember. "Perhaps twenty,
perhaps thirty times."

"And she was always out?" queried Beverly.

"Yes," said Von Barwig sorrowfully, "always!"

"Whom did you see?"

"Mr. Joles," came the ready reply.

"Every time you called?"

"Yes, I--I think so!"

Beverly Cruger looked at Von Barwig a few moments and knitted his brows
thoughtfully. "It's damn queer," he said, after a pause.

"Has she written any letter to me? It did not reach me, that I am
sure," began the old man.

"That's all right. Now let me give you Miss Stanton's message! She
would like you to be at her home at four o'clock this afternoon. Can
you manage it?"

Von Barwig did not trust himself to reply. He could only nod his head
affirmatively.

"I'm glad I came up; awfully glad!"

Beverly arose from his seat and held out his hand to Von Barwig.

"Good-bye! Be on time, won't you?" he said.

Von Barwig smiled. "Yes, I'll be on time," he said joyfully.

The look in the old man's face went to Beverly Cruger's heart and he
showed his sympathy as he shook hands with him again. He hurriedly
passed through the group of children who had gathered to look at the
not too familiar spectacle of a hansom cab waiting at the door of Miss
Husted's establishment.

Von Barwig will always remember how wearily the hours dragged along
until the time of his appointment uptown came. Finally they did pass,
and though it lacked several minutes of the hour of four, Von Barwig
walked up the stone steps of Mr. Henry Stanton's house on Fifth Avenue
and Fifty-seventh Street.

There was no change in the expression of Mr. Joles's face to denote
that he had received imperative instructions from Miss Stanton to admit
Herr Von Barwig the moment he called. Nor did Mr. Joles appear to
think it at all curious that young Mr. Cruger should happen to be in
the hallway just as the music master came in at the door. His face
displayed no emotion whatever when that young gentleman came forward
and led the old man upstairs to Miss Stanton's room. Neither Mr.
Cruger nor the music master saw the pale face of Mr. Stanton's
secretary, Ditson, peering over the staircase at them. But a moment
later a telegram was sent to Mr. Stanton, telling him that there was an
urgent necessity for him to come home at once. Curiously enough at
about the same time Mr. S