, Wrentz alone
followed her.

He was at Pauline's elbow when she registered. As she followed the
bell boy through the lobby, he stepped to the desk, and, noting the
number of Pauline's room--NO. 22--he signed his name under hers
with a flourish.

"By the way," he said easily to the clerk, "is that pet room of' mine
vacant--the one I had last year?"

The clerk smiled. "I'll see," he said. "I had forgotten it was your
pet room. I can't remember everybody."

"Oh, I was just here for a few days," said Wrentz.

"I remember you."

"Yes, sir; 24 is yours," said the clerk. "Front."

Wrentz stood at the cigar counter to make a purchase. He did not wish
to follow Pauline so closely that she might know he had taken the room
next to hers.

In spite of her excitement, Pauline slept soundly that night. The next
morning she had breakfast in her own room and at ten o'clock was ready
to go to "Carson & Brown's." She was considerably provoked by the
ignorance of the hotel clerk, who not only did not know the publishing
house of Carson & Brown, but could not even direct her to Weston
place. He called the head porter and taxicab manager. The latter had
an idea.

"I don't think it's Weston Place, but there's a Weston Street down in
--well, it's not a very good section of the city, Miss. I wouldn't
want to--"

"Never mind. In New York some of our best publishing houses are
perfect barns. You may call a taxicab."

"Yes, Miss."

"Publishing house in Weston Street-whew! But she doesn't look crazy,"
he instructed one of his chauffeurs. "I don't know what the game is,
but it's a good job."

Pauline's spirits revived as the cab whisked her through the big
business streets, newly a-bustle with their morning life. She had a
sense of pity for the workers hastening to their uninspiring toil. How
few of them had ever received even a letter from a publisher! How few
had known the thrill of successful authorship!

A few moments after Pauline's departure Louis Wrentz and his companions
set to work.

Two of the men left the room and sauntered to opposite ends of the hall
where they lingered on watch. Wrentz and the other man stepped out
briskly and each with a screwdriver in his hand began unfastening the
number-plates over the doors of rooms 22 and 24.

A low cough sounded down the corridor and they quickly desisted from
their task and retired to their room while a maid passed by.

In a moment they were out agai