theories--theories which they were resolved to "put over," to
substantiate. As matters stood now, the story Bristow had just heard was
hardly a factor. The detectives were busy with ideas of their own.

Maria Fulton, after the lame man had left her, lay back against her
pillows and looked out the window with misty eyes. Counteracting the
sorrow that had weighed upon her for two days, was her speculation as to
how Braceway would receive the facts she had revealed.

Would he see that her course was one which she intended to be of help to
him?--that, not knowing how he would treat a direct message from her, she
had sent it to him through another?--that she desired, above all things,
his success in the investigation?

"When I spoke to this man of Sam Braceway, my whole manner was a
revelation of how I felt--a frank declaration! And, of course, he will
tell him. If he doesn't----"

She called Miss Kelly.

CHAPTER XVIII

WHAT'S BRACEWAY'S GAME?

Braceway, keeping his promise to have another conference with Bristow,
sat on the porch of No. 9 and watched the last golden streamers the
setting sun had flung above the blue edges of the mountains.

He still carried his cane.

"What's your plan now, Mr. Braceway?" Bristow inquired. "You think you'll
follow Morley to Washington?"

"Not follow him," the detective answered smilingly. "I'm going with him.
That is, I'll take the same train he does."

"Greenleaf told you, I suppose, that he'd given Morley permission to
leave tonight?"

"Yes--said you suggested it. And I think you're right. There's no use in
losing time unnecessarily. Are you going, too?"

"Oh, by all means," Bristow said quickly, "and against my doctor's
orders. That is, if you don't object--if you don't think I'd be in the
way."

Braceway was clearly aware of the lame man's desire to accompany him so
as to be associated with every phase of the work on the case, and to make
it stand out emphatically in the long run that he, Bristow, pitting his
ingenuity against Braceway, had gathered the evidence establishing the
negro's guilt beyond question. The idea amused him, he was so sure of the
accuracy of his own theory.

"Not at all," he said heartily. "I want you to come."

"How about avoiding him on the train? We don't want him to know we're his
fellow-travellers."

"Oh, no. He'll get aboard at the station here. I have a machine to take
me--and you, of course--to Larrimore, the station seven mil