ps this is the man you are looking for."

"Perhaps," agreed Morgan. "I can tell better after I get my hands on
him."

"Oh, my!" cried the girl, and began to search about the davenport.

The two men suspected she was looking for the letter, and they were
relieved to see the photographer appear in the doorway at that
moment.

"Have you lost something?" inquired Marsh.

"Yes, the letter I took out of the mail box."

"Here it is, Miss," said the photographer, stepping forward and
presenting the letter to her. "I picked it up in the hall where you
dropped it."

She took it and thanked him. "I'm so glad you found it," she added.
"It is from my father, and I have not heard from him in a long time.
I feel better now and will go home."

She rose slowly with the words. Noting her weakness, Marsh stepped
to her side and slipped his arm under hers.

"Let me help you up the stairs," he said, gently.

"Thank you," she returned, simply, realizing her need of help.

"I'll wait until you come back, Marsh," said Morgan.

The girl started. "Are you Mr. Marsh?" she exclaimed. Then, as Marsh
nodded, she added, "Why, you are the man who sent this detective up
to see me."

Marsh glanced quickly at Morgan, who, behind the girl's back,
dropped one eyelid slowly and significantly.

"Well, you seemed the most likely person to have information, being
right on the same floor," Marsh said, smiling.

There could be no question that this was a natural explanation, and
the girl seemed satisfied. With a nod and a smile to Morgan and the
photographer, she allowed Marsh to assist her out of the door and up
the stairs to her apartment. Tierney rose from the step where he had
been sitting, to let her pass, and she favored him with one of her
pretty smiles as he did so. Tierney then climbed after them to the
next landing and stood watching. Marsh waited until the door closed
after her. Then, with a catch in his breath that sounded
suspiciously like a sigh, he went back to his apartment. Tierney
gave him a peculiar look as he passed.

The photographer had gone, but Morgan held out the copy which he had
made of the letter as soon as Marsh entered, with the remark, "Now,
what's the game?"

Marsh took it and read:

My dear Daughter:

I have returned from the last trip I shall ever make. I
have never told you, not wishing to cause you worry, but
my health has been gradually failing for many years.

I can no lon