ed on her arrival, and a single letter
sheet lay before him. Without glancing up he bade her sit down. She had
brought her notebook prepared to take dictation. He glanced at it and
shook his head. The tired, indifferent Harwood she had found at the end
of his night vigil had vanished; he was once more the alert, earnest
young man of action she admired.

"Rose, I want to ask you some questions. I think you will believe me if
I say that I shouldn't ask them if they were not of importance--of very
great importance."

"All right, Mr. Harwood."

Her eyes had fallen upon the letter and her lids fluttered quickly. She
touched her pompadour with the back of her hand and tightened the knot
of her tie.

"This is on the dead, Rose. It concerns a lot of people, and it's
important for me to know the truth. And it's possible that you may not
be able to help; but if you can't the matter ends here."

He rose and closed the door of his room to shut out the renewed jingle
of the telephone.

"I want you to look at this letter and tell me whether you ever saw it
before."

She took it from him, glanced at the first line indifferently, looked
closely at the paper, and gave it back, shaking her head.

"We never had anything like that in the office, paper or machine either.
That's heavier than the stationery you had over in the Boordman
Building, and that's a black ribbon; we've always used purple
copying-ribbons. And that letter wasn't copied; you can tell that."

"That doesn't answer my question, Rose. I want to know whether you ever
saw that letter before. Perhaps you'd better take another look at it."

"Oh, I can tell any of my work across the street! I don't know anything
about that letter, Mr. Harwood."

Her indifference had yielded to respectful indignation. She set her
lips firmly, and her blue eyes expressed surprise that her employer
should be thus subjecting her to cross-examination.

"I understand perfectly, Rose, that this is unusual, and that it is not
quite on the square. But this is strictly between ourselves. It's on the
dead, you understand."

"Oh, I'd do anything for you that I'd do for anybody, yes, sir--I'd do
more: but I refused ten thousand dollars for what I know about what
happened in the Transportation Committee that winter I was its stenog.
That's a lot of money; it would take care of me for the rest of my life;
and you know Thatcher kept after me until I had to tell him a few things
I'd do to him if