gure, who held himself
very erect. He was dressed in blue serge, and had the ivory-white
face and wrinkled skin of an actor. She was conscious at once of the
penetration of his glance. His eyes were black and luminous. They
seemed to pierce her with an X-ray quality of comprehension.

"This is the girl," announced Mr. Fowle deferentially.

The little man in the blue suit took the lead forthwith.

"You are Winifred Bartlett?" he said, and by some subtle inter-flow of
magnetism Winifred knew instantly that she had nothing to fear from this
diminutive stranger.

"Yes," she replied, looking at him squarely.

"You live in East One Hundred and Twelfth Street?"

"Yes."

"With a woman described as your aunt, and known as Miss Rachel Craik?"

"Yes."

Each affirmative marked a musical crescendo. Especially was Winifred
surprised by the sceptical description of her only recognized relative.

"Well," went on Clancy, suppressing a smile at the girl's naive
astonishment, "don't be alarmed, but I want you to come with me to
Mulberry Street."

Now, Winifred had just been reading about certain activities in Mulberry
Street, and her eyebrows rounded in real amazement.

"Isn't that the Police Headquarters?" she asked.

Fowle chuckled, whereupon Clancy said pleasantly:

"Yes. One man here seems to know the address quite intimately. But that
fact need not set your heart fluttering. The chief of the Detective
Bureau wishes to put a few questions. That is all."

"Questions about what?"

Winifred's natural dignity came to her aid. She refused to have this
grave matter treated as a joke.

"Take my advice, Miss Bartlett, and don't discuss things further until
you have met Mr. Steingall," said Clancy.

"But I have never even heard of Mr. Steingall," she protested. "What
right have you or he to take me away from my work to a police-station?
What wrong have I done to any one?"

"None, I believe."

"Surely I have a right to some explanation."

"If you insist I am bound to answer."

"Then I do insist," and Winifred's heightened color and wrathful eyes
only enhanced her beauty. Clancy spread his hands in a gesture inherited
from a French mother.

"Very well," he said. "You are required to give evidence concerning the
death of Mr. Ronald Tower. Now, I cannot say any more. I have a car
outside. You will be detained less than an hour. The same car will bring
you back, and I think I can guarantee that your employers will rais