“Give me a handkerchief, somebody!” commanded Zizi, and not without reason, for her own tiny wisp of cambric was nothing but a wet ball, which she was futilely dabbing into her big black eyes.

I hurried into my bedroom and hastily grabbed a fresh handkerchief from a drawer, which I brought to the excited girl.

“Thanks,” she said, as she grasped it and plied it diligently; “now, men, we must get busy! It’s after five o’clock, Olive went away before four, – anything may have happened to her – we must rescue her!”

“We will!” exclaimed Case Rivers, showing more energy than I knew he possessed. “What about ‘The Link,’ Mr. Brice?”

As quickly as I could, I detailed what had happened at the telegraph office, where Sadie Kent had been taken into custody by Hudson’s men.

“Did she go quietly?” asked Penny Wise.

“She did not!” I returned; “she put up a fearful fight, tore up a lot of papers from a desk drawer, and lit into the policemen like a tiger cat! She tried to bite Hudson, and yet, he was the one who kind-heartedly let her telephone to her mother.”

“What!” cried Rivers, “he let her do that!”

“I did it myself, really,” I said; and I told how Sadie had begged for the privilege.

“There you are!” Rivers said, positively. “That telephone message was not to her mother!”

“But I called her up,” I explained, “and she said she was Mrs. Kent.”

“That may be,” and Rivers shook his head; “but, don’t you see, that was a code call, – a warning. The person who received it, mother or grandmother, caught on to the state of things and set machinery in motion that resulted in the kidnaping of Miss Raynor.”

“What for?” I asked, blankly.

“Revenge, probably, but there may be other villainies afoot. Am I right, Mr. Wise?”

“Yes, and mighty quick-witted. Then the next step is to go to the ‘mother’s’ house.”

“Yes, if we can trace it. It may be a call within a call; I mean, the number Mr. Brice got may be merely a go-between – a link – ”

“Try it, anyway,” implored Zizi; “every minute is precious. I’m so afraid for Miss Olive. You know, she’s spunky, – she won’t submit easily to restraint, and you don’t know what they may do to her!”

“Get Information first,” directed Wise, as I started for the telephone. “Find the address of the number you called. You remember it?”

“Yes; of course.” And in a few moments I learned that the house was down in Washington Square.

“Get a taxi,” said Zizi, already putting on her long black cape, which swirled round the slender figure as she flung one end over her shoulder.

She flew to a mirror, and was dabbing her straight little nose with a powder-puff as she talked.

“We’ll all go down there, and I don’t think we’ll have to look any further. Miss Olive is there, – I’m dead sure! Held by the enemy! But she’s game, and I don’t believe we’ll be too late, if we hustle like a house afire!”

And so, with the greatest speed consistent with safety, we taxied down to the house in Washington Square.

The Kent apartment was on the third floor, and as Zizi dashed up the stairs, not waiting for the elevator, we three men followed her.

Zizi’s ring at the bell brought a middle-aged woman to the door, who looked at us rather blankly.

I was about to speak, when Zizi, insinuating her small self through the partly opened door, said softly:

“We’ve a message from ‘The Link.’”

It acted like magic, and the woman’s face changed to an expression of welcome and serious anxiety, as we all went in.

It was rather a pretentious apartment, with fine furnishings in ornate taste. We saw no one save the woman who admitted us, and heard no sound from other rooms.

“You expected it?” and Zizi’s air of secret understanding was perfect.

“Expected what?” said Mrs. Kent, sharply, for she was apparently on her guard.

“Sadie’s arrest,” and Zizi’s black eyes narrowed as she looked keenly at the other.

But the woman was not to be trapped. She glanced at us each in turn, and seemed to conclude we were not friendly visitors for all Zizi’s pretense.

“I know nothing of any arrest,” she said, evenly; “I think you have mistaken the house.”

“I think not,” and Penny Wise looked at her sternly. “Your bluff won’t go, madam, – Sadie, ‘The Link,’ is arrested, and the game is up. Will you answer questions or will you wait until you, too, are arrested?”

“I have nothing to say,” she mumbled, but her voice trembled, and her nerve was deserting her. Inadvertently she glanced toward the closed door of the next room, and Zizi’s quick eyes followed the glance.

“Is Miss Raynor in there?” she flung out so quickly that Mrs. Kent gasped. But she recovered her poise at once and said, “I don’t know what you mean, – I don’t know any Miss Raynor.”

“Oh, tut, tut!” and Zizi grinned at her; “don’t tell naughty stories! Why, I hear Miss Raynor’s voice!”

She didn’t at all, but as she listened, with her head cocked on one side, like a saucy bird, Mrs. Kent’s face showed fear, and she listened also.

A muffled scream was heard, – not loud, but clearly a cry for help.

Without further parley, Rivers made a dash for the door and though it was locked, he smashed into the rather flimsy panel and the old hinges gave way.

There, in the adjoining room was Olive Raynor, a handkerchief tied across her mouth and her angry eyes flashing with rage.

Holding her arm was George Rodman, who was evidently trying to intimidate her, but without complete success.

Zizi flew to Olive’s side, and snatched off the handkerchief.

Rodman was perfectly cool. “Let that lady alone,” he said; “she is my affianced wife.”

“Affianced grandmother!” retorted Zizi. “You can’t put that over, Mr. Rodman!”

“Save me!” Olive said, looking from me to Penny Wise and back again. Her glance fell on Rivers, but returned to me, as her face assumed a look of agony.

I couldn’t quite understand, as she must know that with us all there her danger was past.

“Are you his betrothed?” Case Rivers said, bluntly.

“No!” Olive replied, in an indignant tone; “never!”

“Then – ” and Rivers seemed about to remove Rodman’s hand from Olive’s arm by force, but Rodman himself spoke up:

“One moment, please,” he said, quietly, and bending over, he whispered in Olive’s ear.

She turned deathly white, her lips quivered, and she seemed about to fall. Whatever the brief words were, they wrought a marvelous change in the girl’s attitude. She lost her air of defiant wrath, and seemed a helpless, hopeless victim of the man who held her.

“Are you engaged to me?” Rodman said, looking at Olive, with a threatening scowl.

“Yes,” she managed to whisper, but so agonized was her face that it was palpable she spoke under coercion.

I was uncertain what to do; Wise, too, looked nonplussed, but Rivers, though a stranger to Olive, seemed imbued with an irresistible chivalry, and drawing nearer to her, he said:

“Is that man forcing you to say that against your will?”

Rodman’s grip tightened on Olive’s arm, and his glowering face looked sternly into hers. She made no reply in words, but her piteous glance told all too clearly that Rivers’ assumption was correct.

And yet, what could we do? Olive had assented to Rodman’s assertion, and we could scarcely demand a girl from her fiancé.

Zizi mastered the situation by saying, triumphantly: “We’ve got ‘The Link!’ She’s under arrest!”

“What!” cried Olive, and then, dropping her arm, Rodman whirled toward her:

“There!” he cried, “your secret is out! Unless – ” He made a gesture as if to put his arm round her.

With a cry of revulsion, Olive shrank from him, and her face showed that she preferred his threatening attitude to his endearing one.

“You let that lady alone, unless she desires your attentions,” said Rivers, his innate desire to protect a woman in distress showing in his repressed eagerness to get at Rodman.

“You mind your own business!” shouted Rodman, angrily, as he put out his arm and drew Olive to him. “You’re mine, now, aren’t you, dearie?”

The disgust on the girl’s face, and the shrinking of her form as she tried to draw away from the leering face so near hers was too much for Rivers. He assumed a threatening attitude, and said, “You take your hands off that lady! She doesn’t want – ”

In defiance, Rodman drew Olive nearer, and raising her bowed head was about to kiss her angry, beautiful face, when she uttered a despairing scream.

That was the match in the powder-keg!

Unable to hold back longer, Rivers sprang forward and wrenched Olive from Rodman’s grasp.

With a snarl, Rodman lunged at Rivers, who deftly stopped him with an uppercut. Rodman came back with a smashing facer, and Rivers replied in kind.

Zizi, who had flown to Olive’s side, and was tenderly soothing her, watched the two men, breathlessly. Something savage in her nature responded to the combat, and she flushed and paled alternately as one or the other of the angry men seemed to have the upper hand.

Olive hid her face in her hands, not wanting to look, but Zizi was with the fight, heart and soul.

It was give and take, with such rapidity that I trembled for Rivers’ safety. Rodman was a formidable antagonist, and far heavier than the gaunt man who met and returned his blows.

But Rivers was skilled, and made up in technique what he lacked in strength.

So desperate was the struggle, so blindly furious the two men, that Pennington Wise and I were fearful of results. With a simultaneous impulse we made a dash to separate the combatants, but were obliged to get back quickly to save ourselves from the rain of blows.

Never had I seen such a wild, unbridled fight compressed into such a short time, and I wondered what Rivers had been in a fighting way before he lost his identity.

Fighting and boxing had never been favorite forms of entertainment with me, but this contest absorbed me. It was primitive, instinctive, – the rage of Rodman pitted against the angry indignation of Rivers.

I had not thought of the latter as a weakling, but neither had I looked upon him as a strong man, and I should have judged that in a bout with Rodman he would have gone under.

But not so; his lean, gaunt frame was full of latent strength, his bony fists full of dexterity.

He rushed in, fell back, sidestepped, with the dazzling quickness of a trained fighter. He showed knowledge and skill that amazed me.

Rodman, too, fought for all he was worth, but he impressed me as being not an experienced fighter, – and not a fair one.

Wise, too, was watching Rivers with wonder and admiration, and he also kept his alert gaze on Rodman.

Fascinated, we watched as Rodman clinched, and Rivers with a smile, almost of contempt, threw him off. Then Rodman, bellowing like an angry bull, made a head-on rush for Rivers, who neatly sidestepped, letting his furious antagonist have it on the side of his head.

Even this didn’t knock any sense into Rodman, and he was about to plunge again, when Wise, seeing a chance, said:

“Now, Brice!”

Springing in, I hooked my arm around Rivers’ neck, and yanked him away from Rodman, now struggling, half-spent, in Wise’s grasp.

“Let up, Rivers!” I cried, sternly; “what do you mean?”

He glared at me, not sensing what I said, and then, Rodman, breaking loose, came at him madly, Rivers slithered out of my clutch and caught the other a smashing blow on the ear. This, landing just as Rodman was off his balance from his break-away from Wise, spun him around and sent him down with a crash which knocked all the fight out of him, and he made but a half-hearted attempt to rise.

Satisfied, Rivers turned to me, and then, with a half-apologetic glance at Olive, murmured: “Sorry! Couldn’t help it, Miss Raynor. Brute!”

The last was addressed to his fallen foe, and was met by a vindictive glance, but no other retort.

Rodman, however, was pulling himself together and we were of one mind as to our next procedure, which was to get Olive Raynor away from that house.

“Beat it,” Wise decreed; “you’re a good one, Mr. Rivers! My hat’s off to you. Now, if you’re fit, and you look it, will you and Mr. Brice take Miss Raynor home, and I’ll stay here and clear up this little disturbance. Hop along with them, Ziz; I’ll join you all at the house as soon as I can.”

The faithful taxi was waiting, and Rivers and I put the two girls in, and followed them. Rivers was very quiet and seemed preoccupied. He looked not at all like a conqueror, and I guessed that the fight had stirred some chord of remembrance, and he was now struggling with his lost memory. In silence we went most of the way home.

Before we reached the house, however, he shook off his reverie with an impatient gesture that said, as clearly as words could have done, that he had failed to catch the elusive thread that bound him to the past and that he had returned to the present.

Olive saw it, too, and putting out her hand, said, frankly:

“I owe you deep gratitude, Mr. Rivers. I suppose I was in no real danger, with you men there, but I must confess I was glad to have that wretch punished.”

Her lovely face glowed with righteous indignation, and Zizi’s pert little countenance showed deep satisfaction.

“You gave it to him, good and plenty, Mr. Rivers,” she fairly crowed; “it was a treat to see you put it all over him! Now, you’ve knocked him out physically, Penny Wise will mop up the floor with him mentally and morally! What did he do to you, Miss Olive? Why did he make you say you were his girl?”

The look of agony returned to Olive’s face, as if she had just recollected what the man had said to her.

“He threatened me,” she said, slowly; “with an awful threat! I can’t think about it! Oh, I don’t know what to do! I can’t tell it – I can’t tell it to anybody – ”

“Wait till you get home,” I counseled her, and Rivers added, “And wait till Mr. Wise comes. He’s the man you must tell, and he will advise you. But, I say, we’re getting at things, eh, Brice? ‘The Link’ under arrest, Wise onto Rodman, and he won’t let go of him, either, and Miss Raynor safe, – whew! I feel as if we should just forge ahead now!”

“Sure we will!” declared Zizi, her little face glowing with anticipation. “Never you mind. Miss Olive, dear; whatever that man threatened, Penny Wise will look after him.”

“But – ” began Olive, and then stopped, for we had reached her home.

“Oh, my darling child,” exclaimed Mrs. Vail, as we went in, “where have you been? I’ve been nearly crazy!”

I think we all felt a sudden twinge of shame, for none of us had thought to relieve the poor lady’s suspense as to Olive’s fate! We ought to have telephoned, at least. But she was now smiling and happy at the safe return of her charge and eager to know all the details of the adventure.

Both Olive and Zizi went off with Mrs. Vail, who was chattering volubly, and I was left alone with Rivers.

“The fight, – on which let me congratulate you, – stirred some old memory?” I said, inquiringly.

“For a few moments, yes;” he returned, looking deeply thoughtful. “But it was both vague and evanescent, I couldn’t nail it. Oh!” and he made an impatient gesture, “it is maddening! I seem just on the edge of complete recollection, – and, then, – it’s gone again, and my mind is a positive blank regarding it. But, it’s no use worrying, Brice,” and he spoke cheerfully, “I’m sure it will come, some day. Until then I shall be Case Rivers, and if I die under the name, I’ll try, at least, not to disgrace it.”

“You didn’t disgrace it today,” I said, heartily. “You put up a first-class fight, and in a righteous cause.”

“I couldn’t stand it to see Miss Raynor bullied by that brute,” he returned, simply, “and then, too, I felt a natural antagonism toward him on my own account. No,” as I started to speak, “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t think I knew him before I lost my memory. Maybe I did, but it wasn’t that that startled me to thinking back. It was something else, – some other impression, that made me have a fraction of a reminiscence of something, – oh, I don’t know what, but I’m going to take it as an omen of future good fortune.”

CHAPTER XIV
Where is Manning?

“You’re to stay for dinner,” a voice said, speaking from the shadows at the other end of the long room.

As I looked toward it, Zizi’s little white face gleamed between the portières, and in another moment she slid through and was at my side.

“Miss Raynor says so, and Mrs. Vail adds her invitation. They’re going to keep Penny Wise when he returns, and Miss Raynor – ”

“Miss Raynor wants to thank Mr. Rivers for his good work,” and Olive herself followed in Zizi’s footsteps. She was smiling now, but her lips were tremulous and her eyes showed unshed tears.

“Nothing to thank me for,” returned Case Rivers, quickly, “on the contrary, I want to apologize for such an exhibition of wrath before a lady. But I confess I lost all self-control when I saw that brute intimidating you. If you absolve me of offense, I am thoroughly glad I did him up! And you do?”

“Indeed, yes!” and Olive’s frank gaze was sincere but sad, too. “I was terribly frightened, – and, – I am still.”

“Why?” cried Rivers, abruptly, and then added, “but I’ve no right to ask.”

“Yes, you have,” Olive assured him, “but – I’ve no right to tell you. Mr. Rodman holds a threat over my head, and – and – ”

Just then Wise arrived, and Mrs. Vail came into the room with him.

Olive welcomed him gladly, and then, as dinner was announced, we all went to the dining-room.

“No discussion of our momentous affairs while we eat,” Wise commanded, and so we enjoyed the occasion as if it were a social affair.

The conversation was interesting, for Pennington Wise was a well-informed man and a good raconteur; Rivers proved to be most entertaining and clever at repartee; and though Olive was very quiet, Mrs. Vail kept up an amusing chatter, and Zizi was her own elfin self and flung out bits of her odd talk at intervals.

We returned to the big library for coffee, and then, almost abruptly, Wise began to question Olive as to her adventure that afternoon.

“Mr. Rivers was quite right,” he said, “in assuming the telephone call sent by Sadie Kent to her ‘mother’ was a trick. Mighty clever of you,” he turned to Rivers, “and it led to the arrest of Rodman. The woman called Mrs. Kent is not Sadie’s mother, but a companion in crime. For Sadie, ‘The Link,’ is a criminal and a deep one! But first, Miss Raynor, let us have your story.”

“When I answered the telephone call,” Olive began, “a man’s voice said, rather brusquely, ‘We have Amory Manning here. If you want to see him, come here at once.’ I said, – of course, I was terribly excited, – ‘Where are you? who are you?’ The voice replied, ‘Never mind all that. You have to make quick decision. If you want to see Manning, a taxi will call for you in five minutes. Tell nobody, or you will queer the whole game. Do you consent?’ I may not give his exact words, but that was his general meaning. I had to think quickly; I did want to see Mr. Manning, and I feared no harm. So I said I agreed to all the stipulations, I would tell no one, and I would go in the taxicab that would come for me.”

“But you told me,” put in Mrs. Vail, who liked to feel her importance.

“Yes,” went on Olive, “I felt I must leave some word, for I had an uneasy feeling that all was not right. If Amory Manning was there, why didn’t he telephone himself? But, I reasoned, he might be, well – in fact, I thought he was, – held for ransom, and in that case I was ready and willing to pay it. So, I said nothing to Zizi, for I knew she would tell – ”

“Wow! Yes!” came from Zizi’s corner, where she sat on a low ottoman.

“And so, I went alone. The taxi was at the curb when I left this house. I got in, and was taken to the house in Washington Square. I felt no fear until, after Mrs. Kent admitted me, she showed me into a room where I found myself confronted by Mr. Rodman. Mrs. Kent remained with me, but I saw at once she was not friendly.

“‘Where is Mr. Manning?’ I asked. Mr. Rodman only laughed rudely and said he hadn’t the slightest idea. And then I knew it was all a trap, – but I didn’t know why I was tricked there. And then,” Olive paused, and a deep blush came over her face, but she shook her head and went bravely on, “then he tried to make love to me. I appealed to Mrs. Kent, but she only laughed scornfully at my distress. He said if I would marry him he would protect me from all suspicion of being implicated in – in the death of my guardian! Of course, that didn’t scare me, and I told him I wasn’t suspected now, by anybody. Then he dropped that line of argument and told me if I didn’t marry him, – he would – oh, that part I can’t tell!”

“Blackmail!” said Wise, looking at her intently.

“Yes,” she replied, “and it was an awful threat! Then, he saw I was indignant and not to be intimidated – oh, I pretended to be much more courageous than I really was, – and he began to talk more politely and very seriously. He said, if I would call off Mr. Wise and make no further effort to run down my uncle’s murderer, he would send me home safely, and molest me no further. I wouldn’t agree to this; and then he grew ugly again, and lost his temper, and – oh, he talked dreadfully!” Olive shuddered at the recollection, and her lips quivered.

With quick sympathy, Zizi moved noiselessly from her place, and, kneeling at Olive’s side, took her hand. With a grateful glance at the comforting little fingers caressing her own, Olive went on:

“He stormed and he threatened me, and that Kent woman joined in and said terrible things! And I was so frightened I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t any longer, – and I didn’t know what to do! And then the bell rang, and Mrs. Kent went to the door, and as I looked hopeful, – I suppose, for I welcomed the thought of anybody’s coming, – Mr. Rodman threw a handkerchief around my mouth and tied it behind my head. ‘There, my lady,’ he said, ‘you won’t scream for help quite as quickly as you planned to!’ And I couldn’t make a sound! Then, when I heard familiar voices, – Zizi’s and Mr. Wise’s, I knew I must make myself heard, and with a desperate effort, I got out a groan or wail for help, though that awful man stood over me with his hand raised to strike me!”

“You poor darling!” exclaimed Mrs. Vail, putting her arm round Olive, “it was fearful! Why, once I heard of a case like that – no, I read it in a book, – and the girl fainted!”

“Well, I didn’t faint, but I almost collapsed from sheer fright lest I couldn’t make a loud enough sound to be heard by you people.”

“Oh, we were coming!” said Zizi, “I saw by the old hen’s face she had you boxed up in there, and I was going to do some ground and lofty yelling myself, if Mr. Rivers hadn’t smashed in the door just as he did.”

“I couldn’t hold back,” said Rivers, “I gave way to a blind impulse, – and I’m glad I did!”

“I’m glad, too,” and Olive gave him a grateful smile.

“But then,” cried Zizi, “he made you say you were engaged to him – ”

“Yes,” and Olive paled as with fear. “I can’t tell about that – ”

“You said you weren’t, and then he whispered to you, and then you said you were,” went on Zizi, remorselessly reviewing the scene.

“I know it, – but – oh, don’t ask me! Perhaps, I’ll tell – later, – if I have to, – but – I can’t – I can’t.”

Olive’s head drooped on Zizi’s shoulder, and the eerie little voice said, “There, there, – don’t talk any more now, Miss Olive, dear. Penny Wise, you carry on the conversation from this point.”

“All right,” said Wise, “I’ll tell my story. George Rodman is in the hands of the police, but I doubt very much if they can prove anything on him. He’s a sly proposition, and covers his tracks mighty well. Moreover, as to the murder of Mr. Gately, Rodman has a perfect alibi.”

“Your First Lessons in Sleuthing always say, ‘distrust the perfect alibi,’” murmured Zizi, without looking up from her occupation of smoothing Olive’s softly banded hair.

“Yes, – manufactured ones. But in this case there seems to be no question. A Federal detective, who has had his eye on Rodman for some time, was in Rodman’s office at the very time Mr. Gately was killed.”

“But Mr. Rodman went down on the same elevator I did, soon after the shooting,” I exclaimed.

“How soon after?”

“Less than half an hour. And Rodman got on at the seventh floor.”

“That’s all right, the Federal Office man knows that. They went down together from the tenth, – Rodman’s floor, – to the seventh, and then after they looked after something there, Rodman went on down alone.”

“All right,” I said, for I knew that Wise and the Federal Detective were not being hoodwinked by any George Rodman!

“And here’s the situation,” Wise went on; “Sadie Kent is a German telegraph spy. She is called ‘The Link,’ because she has been an important link in the German spy system. A trusted employee and an expert operator of long experience, she has stolen information from hundreds of telegrams and turned it over to a man who transmitted it to Berlin by a secret avenue of communication. A telegram has been sent to Washington asking for a presidential warrant to hold her until the case can be investigated. She is also one large and emphatic wildcat! She bites and scratches with feline ferocity, and is under strong and careful restrictions.”

“And she is the one,” I said, “whose identity we learned from Jenny – and, – oh, yes, whose identity you guessed, Mr. Wise, from some cigarette stubs, and – ”

“Oh, I say,” Wise interrupted me, shortly, “we must get the truth from her by quizzing, not by clews. We’ve arrested her, now, and – ”

Olive stirred uneasily, and Zizi, after a quick, intelligent glance at Wise, which he answered by a nod, rose to her feet, and urged Olive to rise and go with her.

“You’re all in, Miss Olive,” she said, gently, “and I’m going to take you off to sleepy-by. Tell the nice gentlemen good-night, and come along with your Zizi-zoo. Upsy-diddy, now,” and smilingly, Zizi persuaded Olive to go with her. “You come, too, Mrs. Vail,” Zizi added, because, I noticed, of an almost imperceptible nod from Wise in the elder lady’s direction. “We just simpully can’t get along without you.”

Pleased at the flattering necessity for her presence, Mrs. Vail went from the room with the two girls. “I’ll be back,” she called out to us, as she left the room.

“She won’t,” said Wise, decidedly, after the sound of footsteps died away, “Zizi’ll look out for that. Now, Brice, I’ve important new information. I didn’t want to divulge it before Miss Raynor, tonight, for she has had about all she can bear today. But it begins to look as if Sadie Kent sold her stolen telegrams to Rodman, and he – can’t you guess?”

“No,” I said, blankly, and Rivers said, “Tell us.”

“Why, I believe he turned them over to Gately.”

“Gately! Amos Gately mixed up in spy business! Man, you’re crazy!”

“Crazy does it, then! Haven’t we positive proof that Sadie Kent was in Gately’s office the day he was killed?”

“How?” I said, wonderingly. “Did she kill him?”

“Lord, no! But didn’t I size her up from the hatpin? and didn’t your girl trace the powder-paper? and didn’t we see cigarette stubs with the S.K. monogram, – in Mr. Gately’s private office, – and his own cigar stubs there, too, as if she had been there in intimate chat!”

“Are you sure about the powder-paper?” I cried, impressed by the realization of Norah’s hand in the discovery.

“Yes; we know, at least, that she has bought them from that shop. You see, she has lots of money beside her salary from the telegraph company.”

“Rather!” said Rivers, “if she’s selling Government secrets!”

“Well,” I said, after the whole disclosure began to sink into my brain, “if Sadie Kent sat around in Mr. Gately’s office, smoking and chatting, with her hat off, and her powder-papers in evidence, she was pretty friendly with him!”

“Of course she was,” and Wise looked grave. “That’s what I dread to tell Miss Raynor. For it implicates Amos Gately in some way; either he is mixed up in the spy racket, – or – Miss Kent was his friend – socially!”

“Oh, come now,” I said, “don’t let’s say that sort of thing.”

“But, my dear man, unpleasant though it be to assume an intimacy between the bank president and the handsome telegraph girl, – yet, isn’t that preferable, – to – ”

“To brand him with the shameful suspicion of receiving spy secrets!” Rivers completed the sentence. “Yes, it is! The most disgraceful revelations of a liaison would be as nothing compared with the ignominy of spy work!”

“I know that,” I hastened to explain myself, “but I can’t connect either disgrace with Amos Gately! You didn’t know him, Wise, and you, Rivers, didn’t either. Nor did I know him personally, – but I did know, – and do know, that no breath of suspicion can be attached to Amos Gately’s whole career! Why, he was a synonym for all that is best in finance, in politics, in society! I’m glad you didn’t hint this before Olive Raynor! It would have crushed the poor child.”

“She’ll have to learn it sooner or later,” and Wise shook his head. “There’s no doubt about it in my mind. You see, ‘The Link’ usually took her news to Rodman and he secretly, and by means of the secret elevator, carried it to Gately who gave it over to the agents of the German Government.”

“Do you know this?” asked Rivers.

“I couldn’t get Rodman to admit it, but when I taxed him with something of the sort, he flew into such a rage that I’m sure I struck the truth.”

“Where’s Rodman now?”

“The Department of Justice has his case in hand. They’ll look after him. But I don’t see how we can connect him with the murder of Gately. I don’t for a minute doubt he’d be quite capable of it, but he wasn’t there at the time.”

“Was Sadie Kent?” and Rivers frowned thoughtfully.

“Not at the time of the shooting. Brice, here, can testify to that.”

“Not unless she was in hiding,” I said, “and she wasn’t, for I looked in the cupboards and all that. We seem to have proved Sadie there before the murderer was, but I don’t suspect her of shooting Gately.”

“Nor I,” agreed Wise, “but it was unusual for her to go to Mr. Gately’s office. It must be that she had grown more daring of late, and had some hold over Gately, so that she felt safe in going there.”

“Can’t they get all that out of Sadie?”