he
was looked after as a matter of charity by William Meiklejohn, and
entrusted to the care of Miss Bartlett, the ex-governess."

Carshaw was certainly "interested" now.

"Winifred! My Winifred!" he cried, grasping the detective's shoulder in
his excitement.

"Tut, tut!" grinned Clancy. "Guess the story's beginning to grip. Yes.
Winifred is 'the image of her mother,' said Voles. She must be 'taken
away from New York.' Why? Why did this same Ralph vanish from Vermont
after her father's death 'by accident'? Why does a wealthy and
influential Senator join in the plot against her, invoking the aid of
your mother and of Mrs. Tower? These are questions to be asked, but not
yet. First, you must get back your Winifred, Carshaw, and take care that
you keep her when you get her."

"But how? Tell me how to find her!" came the fierce demand.

"If you jump at me like that I'll make you stop here another week," said
Clancy. "Man alive, I hate humbug as much as any man; but don't you see
that the Bureau must make sure of its case before it acts? We can't go
before a judge until we have better evidence than the vague hearsay of
twenty years ago. But, for goodness' sake, next time you grab Winifred,
rush her to the nearest clergyman and make her Mrs. Carshaw, Jr.
That'll help a lot. Leave me to get the Senator and the rest of the
bunch. Now, if you'll be good, I'll show you the house where your
Winifred was born!"

CHAPTER XX

IN THE TOILS

East Orange seemed to be a long way from New York when Winifred hastened
to the appointment at "Gateway House," traveling thither by way of the
Tube and the Lackawanna Railway.

More and more did it seem strange that a theatrical agent should fix on
such a rendezvous, until a plausible reason suggested itself: possibly,
some noted impresario had chosen this secluded retreat, and the agent
had arranged a meeting there between his client and the great man whose
Olympian nod gave success or failure to aspirants for the stage.

The letter itself was reassuringly explicit as to the route she should
follow.

"On leaving the station," it said, "turn to the right and walk a mile
along the only road that presents itself until you see, on the left, a
large green gate bearing the name 'Gateway House.' Walk in. The house
itself is hidden by trees, and stands in spacious grounds. If you follow
these directions, you will have no need to ask the way."

The description of the place betokened