think. I can safely say that there is not another man in this town
who has lighted upon the real solution of this matter, though it has
been openly talked of for so long. But as for bringing it to light, no
one would think of doing that. It would be sure to hurt Oakley's
feelings, and he is of one of our best families."

"Ah, yes, perfectly right."

Skaggs had got all that he wanted; much more, in fact, than he had
expected. The Colonel held him for a while yet to enlarge upon the views
that he had expressed.

When the reporter finally left him, it was with a cheery "Good-night,
Colonel. If I were a criminal, I should be afraid of that analytical
mind of yours!"

He went upstairs chuckling. "The old fool!" he cried as he flung himself
into a chair. "I 've got it! I 've got it! Maurice Oakley must see me,
and then what?" He sat down to think out what he should do to-morrow.
Again, with his fine disregard of ways and means, he determined to trust
to luck, and as he expressed it, "brace old Oakley."

Accordingly he went about nine o'clock the next morning to Oakley's
house. A gray-haired, sad-eyed woman inquired his errand.

"I want to see Mr. Oakley," he said.

"You cannot see him. Mr. Oakley is not well and does not see visitors."

"But I must see him, madam; I am here upon business of importance."

"You can tell me just as well as him. I am his wife and transact all of
his business."

"I can tell no one but the master of the house himself."

"You cannot see him. It is against his orders."

"Very well," replied Skaggs, descending one step; "it is his loss, not
mine. I have tried to do my duty and failed. Simply tell him that I came
from Paris."

"Paris?" cried a querulous voice behind the woman's back. "Leslie, why
do you keep the gentleman at the door? Let him come in at once."

Mrs. Oakley stepped from the door and Skaggs went in. Had he seen
Oakley before he would have been shocked at the change in his
appearance; but as it was, the nervous, white-haired man who stood
shiftily before him told him nothing of an eating secret long carried.
The man's face was gray and haggard, and deep lines were cut under his
staring, fish-like eyes. His hair tumbled in white masses over his
pallid forehead, and his lips twitched as he talked.

"You 're from Paris, sir, from Paris?" he said. "Come in, come in."

His motions were nervous and erratic. Skaggs followed him into the
library, and the wife disappeared in ano