bullets.  Not a particle of the face was to be seen, and only enough of the neck and shoulders to show that it had been the portrait of a man.  I enclose it for you to see; and if you want to talk to the woman, she is still here, though I only keep her in the hope of her being that Madame Duclos for whom money is offered.  I will tell you why I think this:  Not because of a torn skirt,—­you see I have been looking over the advertisement printed in the papers,—­but because she is foreign and dark and has a decidedly drooping eyelid.  Then too, she halts a little on one foot, as I noticed when I called her hurriedly to the window to see something.  If you want to have a look at her, come after five and before seven; we are both in then.

  Yours respectfully,

  Caroline Davis.

“No doubt that’s the woman,” commented Gryce.  “We are fortunate in hitting her trail at this critical moment.”

He had already glanced at the mutilated photograph lying before him, but now he took it up.

“Very little here,” he remarked as he examined first the face of it and then the back.  “But if you will let me take it, I may find that its place is in our incompleted chain.”

“Take it, and if you would like to have a talk with the woman herself——­”

“Yes, Chief; I would like that above all things.”

“Very good.  I’m expecting her here any minute, but—­Well, what now?  What’s up?”

An officer had entered hurriedly after one quick knock.

“Mrs. Davis’ lodger is gone,” said he.  “Left without a word to anybody.  When they went to her room they found it empty, with a five-dollar bill pinned to the riddled cushion.  As nobody saw her go, we are as much at sea as ever.”

A smile, both curious and fine, crossed Mr. Gryce’s lips as he listened to this, and turning earnestly to the Chief, he begged for the job of looking her up.

“I think with the little start we now have that I can find her,” said he.  “At all events, I should like to try.”

“And let the other matter rest quiescent meanwhile?”

“If it will.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I hardly know myself, Chief.  All is hazy yet, but skies clear, and so do most of our problems.  If the two ends of my string should chance to come together——­”

But here a look from his Chief stopped him.

“Let us pray that they won’t.  But if they do, we shall not shirk our duty, Gryce.”

XIX

MR. GRYCE AND THE TIMID CHILD

“Assurance does it, sir—­a great deal of assurance.  Not that I have much——­”

Here Mr. Gryce laughed, with the result that Sweetwater laughed also.  A moment of fun was a welcome relief, and they both made the most of it.

“Not that I lack it entirely,” Sweetwater hastened to say.  Then they laughed again—­after which their talk proceeded on serious lines.