g
about her ordinary duty. Listening a minute outside the kitchen door she
slipped stealthily down the cellar stairs, and tiptoed over to the area
door where the ashman took out the ashes. Softly slipping the bolt she
opened the door and drew in her bundle. Then standing within, she
quickly slipped the black silk over her housemaid's gown, donned her
coat and hat and gloves, and sallied forth. A moment more and she was in
the next street with the consciousness that she "might have done the
like any time sooner, if she'd wanted, in spite of that little spy-cat
Marie."

"If I want to go back I'll just say I went after my insurance book," she
chuckled to herself as she sped down the street in the direction of the
hospital.

Arrived at the big building she asked to see the list of patients taken
in on the day of Betty's wedding, and succeeded in getting a pretty
accurate description of each one, sufficient at least to satisfy her
that Betty was not among them. Then she asked a few more bold questions,
and came away fully convinced that Betty had never been in that
hospital.

By this time it was nine o'clock, and she meant to take the evening
train for Boston, which left, she was sure, somewhere near midnight. She
took a trolley to her old lodgings where she had been since Mrs.
Stanhope had sent her away the first time, and hastily packed a small
hand bag with a few necessities, made a few changes in her garments,
then went to see a fellow lodger whom she knew well, and where she felt
sure she could easily get a check cashed, for she had a tidy little bank
account of her own, and was well known to be reliable.

Having procured the necessary funds, she made her way to the station and
found that she had still an hour to spare before the Boston train left.

Settled down at last in the back seat of a common car, she made herself
as comfortable as her surroundings would allow, and gave herself up to
planning the campaign that was before her.

Canny Candace did not go at once to the office of the brothers, James
and George McIntyre, though she looked them up in the telephone book the
very first thing when the train arrived in Boston even before she had
had a bite to eat, and her cup of tea which meant more to her than the
"bite." She reasoned that they would be busy in the early hours and not
be able to give her their undivided attention. She had not lived out all
her life for nothing. She knew the ways of the world, and sh