t be talking to you. She would never
forgive me for an indiscretion."

"For the present I advise you to do nothing," Graham said. "You can
safely leave all that to her managers. I am going to see them now. I
will tell them what you have said."

The girl's eyes moistened.

"Thank you, sir. I have been at my wits' end."

Apparently she withheld nothing. She played no part to confuse the
dancer's friends.

On the way to the managers' office, with the trailing car behind them,
Graham reasoned excitedly:

"For the first time we seem to be actually on the track. Here's a
tangible clue that may lead to the heart of the case. Maria pulled the
wool over the maid's eyes, too. She didn't want her to know her plans,
but her instructions show that she had no intention of returning last
night. She probably made a bee line for the Cedars. It was probably she
that you saw at the lake, probably she who cried last night. If only she
hadn't written that note! I can't get the meaning of it. It's up to her
managers now. If they haven't heard from her it's a safe guess she's
playing a deep game, connected with the crying, and the light at the
deserted house, and the disappearance of Paredes before dawn. You must
realize the connection between that and your condition the other evening
after you had left them."

Bobby nodded. He began to hope that at the managers' office they would
receive no explanation of Maria's absence destructive to Graham's theory.
Early as it was they found a bald-headed man in his shirt sleeves pacing
with an air of panic a blantantly furnished office.

"Well!" he burst out as they entered. "My secretary tells me you've come
about this temperamental Carmen of mine. Tell me where she is. Quick!"

Graham smiled at Bobby. The manager ran his fingers across his bald and
shining forehead.

"It's no laughing matter."

"Then she has definitely disappeared?" Graham said.

"Disappeared! Why did I come down at this ungodly hour except on the
chance of getting some word? She didn't even telephone last night. I had
to show myself in front of the curtain and give them a spiel about a
sudden indisposition. And believe me, gentlemen, audiences ain't what
they used to be. Did these ginks sit back and take the show for what it
was worth? Not by a darn sight. Flocked to the box office and howled for
their money back. If she doesn't appear to-night I might as well close
the house. I'll be ruined."

"Unless," Graham sugge