〃Any　chance　of　finding　that　bunch　of　kids？〃
  〃Not　a　chance；　not　a　chance！　　If　I　got　the　hull　district　here　there
  wouldn't　be　nothin'　doin'。　　The　kids'd　be　too　scared　t'　remember
  anything。　　A　pigeon…blood　ruby；　an'　I　wasn't　gonna　pick　it　up　at
  first！〃
  〃Lock　it　up；　sergeant；〃　ordered　the　detective。　　〃I'll　pass　the　word
  to　headquarters。　　Too　big　for　a　ring。　　Probably　fallen　from　a　pin。
  But　there'll　be　a　holler　in　a　few　hours。　　Lost　or　stolen；　there'll
  be　some　big　noise。　　You　two　boobs！〃
  〃Well；　whadda　yuh　know　about　that？〃　whined　the　policeman。　　〃An'　me
  thinkin'　it　was　glass！〃
  But　there　was　no　big　noise。　　No　one　had　reported　the　loss　or　theft
  of　a　pigeon…blood　ruby　of　unusual　size　and　quality。
  CHAPTER　XIX
  Kitty　came　home　at　nine　that　night；　dreadfully　tired。　　She　had　that
  day　been　rocked　by　so　many　emotions。　　She　had　viewed　the　parade　from
  the　windows　of　a　theatrical　agency；　and　she　had　cheered　and　cried
  like　everybody　else。　　Her　eyes　still　smarted；　and　her　throat　betrayed
  her　every　time　she　recalled　what　she　had　seen。　　Those　boys！
  Loneliness。　　She　had　dined　downtown；　and　on　the　way　home　the　shadow
  had　stalked　beside　her。　　Loneliness。　　Never　before　had　these　rooms
  seemed　so　empty；　empty。　　If　God　had　only　given　her　a　brother　and　he
  had　marched　in　that　glorious　parade；　what　fun　they　two　would　be
  having　at　this　moment！　　Empty　rooms；　not　even　a　pet。
  Loneliness。　　She　had　been　a　silly　little　fool　to　stand　so　aloof；
  just　because　she　was　poor　and　lived　in　a　faded　locality。　　She　mocked
  herself。　　Poor　but　proud；　like　the　shopgirl　in　the　movies。　　Denied
  herself　companionship　because　she　was　ashamed　of　her　genteel　poverty。
  And　now　she　was　paying　for　it。　　Silly　little　fool！　　It　wasn't　as　if
  she　did　not　know　how　to　make　and　keep　friends。　　She　knew　she　had
  attractions。　　Just　a　senseless　false　pride。　　The　best　friends　in　the
  world；　after　a　series　of　rebuffs；　would　drop　away。　　Her　mother's
  friends　never　called　any　more；　because　of　her　aloofness。　　She　had
  only　a　few　girl　friends；　and　even　these　no　doubt　were　beginning　to
  think　her　uppish。
  She　did　not　take　off　her　hat　and　coat。　　She　wandered　through　the
  empty　rooms；　undecided。　　If　she　went　to　a　movie　the　rooms　would　be
  just　as　lonely　when　she　returned。　　Companionship。　　The　urge　of　it
  was　so　strong　that　there　was　a　temptation　to　call　up　someone；　even
  someone　she　had　rebuffed。　　She　was　in　the　mood　to　confess　everything
  and　to　make　an　honest　attempt　to　start　all　over　again　…　to　accept
  friendship　and　let　pride　go　hang。　　Impulsively　she　started　for　the
  telephone；　when　the　doorbell　rang。
  Immediately　the　sense　of　loneliness　fell　away。　　Another　chapter　in
  the　great　game　of　hide　and　seek　that　had　kept　her　from　brooding
  until　to…night？　　The　doorbell　carried　a　new　message　these　days。
  Nine　o'clock。　　Who　could　be　calling　at　that　hour？　　She　had　forgotten
  to　advise　Cutty　of　the　fact　that　someone　had　gone　through　the
  apartment。　　She　could　not　positively　assert　the　fact。　　Those　articles
  in　her　bureau　she　herself　might　have　disturbed。　　She　might　have　taken
  a　handkerchief　in　a　hurry；　hunted　for　something　under　the　lingerie
  impatiently。　　Still　she　could　not　rid　herself　of　the　feeling　that
  alien　hands　had　been　rifling　her　belongings。　　Not　Bernini；　decidedly。
  Remembering　Cutty's　advice　about　opening　the　door　with　her　foot
  against　it；　she　peered　out。　　No　emissary　of　Bolshevisim　here。　　A
  weary　little　messenger　boy　with　a　long　box　in　his　arms　called　her
  name。
  〃Miz　Conover？〃
  〃Yes。〃
  The　boy　thrust　the　box　into　her　hands　and　clumped　to　the　stairhead。
  Kitty　slammed　the　door　and　ran　into　the　living　room；　tearing　open
  the　box　as　she　ran。　　Roses　from　Cutty；　she　knew　it。　　The　old　darling！
  Just　when　she　was　on　the　verge　of　breaking　down　and　crying！　　She　let
  the　box　fall　to　the　floor　and　cuddled　the　flowers　to　her　heart；　her
  eyes　filling。　　Cutty。
  One　of　those　ideas　which　sometime　or　another　spring　into　the　minds
  of　all　pretty　women　who　are　poor　sprang　into　hers　…　an　idea　such　as
  an　honest　woman　might　muse　over；　only　to　reject。　　Sinister　and
  cynical。　　Kitty　was　at　this　moment　in　rather　a　desperate　frame　of
  mind。　　Those　two　inherent　characteristics；　which　she　had　fought
  valiantly　…　love　of　good　times　and　of　pretty　clothes　…　made　ingress
  easy　for　this　sinister　and　cynical　idea。　　Having　gained　a　foothold
  it　pressed　forward　boldly。　　Cutty；　who　had　everything　…　strength；
  comeliness；　wisdom；　and　money。　　To　live　among　all　those　beautiful
  things；　never　to　be　lonely　again；　to　be　waited　on；　fussed　over；　made
  much　of；　taken　into　the　high　world。　　Never　more　to　add　up　accounts；
  to　stretch　five…dollar　bills　across　the　chasm　of　seven　days。　　An
  old　man's　darling！
  〃No；　no；　no！〃　she　burst　out；　passionately。　　She　drew　a　hand　across
  her　eyes。　　As　if　that　gesture　could　rub　out　an　evil　thought！　　It　is
  all　very　well　to　say　〃Avaunt！〃　　But　if　the　idea　will　not？　　〃I
  couldn't；　I　couldn't！　　I'd　be　a　liar　and　a　cheat。　　But　he　is　so
  nice！　　If　he　did　want　me！　。。。　　No；　no！　　Just　for　comforts！　　I
  couldn't！　　What　a　miserable　wretch　I　am！〃
  She　caught　up　the　copper　jug　and　still　holding　the　roses　to　her
  heart；　the　tears　streaming　down　her　cheeks；　rushed　out　to　the　kitchen
  for　water。　　She　dropped　the　green　stems　into　the　jug；　buried　her
  face　in　the　buds　to　cool　the　hot　shame　on　her　cheeks；　and　remembered
  …　what　a　ridiculous　thing　the　mind　was！　…　that　she　had　three　shirt
  waists　to　iron。　　She　set　the　jug　on　the　kitchen　table；　where　it
  remained　for　many　hours；　and　walked　over　to　the　range；　to　the
  flatiron　shelf。　　As　she　reached　for　a　flatiron　her　hand　stopped　in
  midair。
  A　fat　black　wallet！　　Instantly　she　knew　who　had　placed　it　there。
  That　poor　Johnny　Two…Hawks！
  Kitty　lifted　out　the　wallet　from　behind　the　flatirons。　　No　doubt　of
  it；　Johnny　Two…Hawks　had　placed　it　there　when　she　had　gone　to　the
  speaking　tube　to　summon　the　janitor。　　Not　knowing　if　he　would　ever
  call　for　it！　　Preferring　that　she　rather　than　his　enemies　should
  have　it。　　And　without　a　word！　　What　a　simple　yet　amazing　hiding
  place；　and　but　for　the　need　of　a　flatiron　the　wallet　would　have
  stayed　there　until　she　moved。　　Left　it　there；　with　the　premonition
  that　he　was　heading　into　trouble。　　But　what　if　they　had　killed　him？
  How　would　she　have　explained　the　wallet's　presence　in　her　apartment？
  Good　gracious；　what　an　escape！
  Without　direct　consciousness　she　raised　the　flap。　　She　saw　the　edges
  of　money　and　documents；　but　she　did　not　touch　anything。　　There　was
  no　need。　　She　knew　it　belonged　to　Johnny　Two…Hawks。　　Of　course　there
  was　an　appalling　attraction。　　The　wallet　was；　figuratively；　begging
  to　be　investigated。　　But　resolutely　she　closed　the　flap。　　Why？
  Because　it　was　as　though　Two…Hawks　had　placed　the　wallet　in　her
  hands；　charging　her　to　guard　it　against　the　day　he　reclaimed　it。
  There　was　no　outward　proof　that　the　wallet　was　his。　　She　just　knew；
  that　was　all。
  Still；　she　examined　the　outside　carefully。　　In　one　corner　had　been
  originally　a　monogram　or　a　crest；　effectually　obliterated　by　the
  application　of　fire。
  Who　he　was　and　what　he　was；　by　a　simple　turn　of　the　wrist。　　It　was
  Cutty's　affair　now；　not　hers。　　He　had　a　legal　right　to　examine　the
  contents。　　He　was　an　agent　of　the　Federal　Government。　　The　drums　of
  jeopardy　and　Stefani　Gregor　and　Johnny　Two…Hawks；　all　interwoven。
  She　had　waited　in　vain　for　Cutty　to　mention　the　emeralds。　　What
  signified　his　silence？　　She　had　indirectly　apprised　him　of　the　fact
  that　she　knew　the　author　of　that　advertisement　offering　to　purchase
  the　drums；　no　questions　asked。　　Who　but　Cutty　in　New　York　would　know
  about　them？　　The　mark　of　the　thong。　　Johnny　Two…Hawks　had　been
  carrying　the　drums；　and　Karlov's　men　had　torn　them　from　their
  victim's　neck　during　the　battle。　　Was　there　any　reason　why　Cutty
  should　not　have　taken　her　completely　into　his　confidence？　　Palaces
  looted。　　If　Stefani　Gregor　had　lived　in　a　palace；　why　not　his
  protege？　　Still；　it　was　possible　Cutty　was　holding　back　until　he
  could　tell　her　everything。
  But　what　to　do　with　it？　　If　she　called　him　up　and　made　known　her
  discovery；　Cutty　would　rush　up　as　fast　as　a　taxicab　could　bring　him。
  He　had　peremptorily　ordered　her　not　to　come　to　his　apartment　for
  the　present。　　But　to　sit　here　and　wait；　to　be　alone　again　after　he
  had　gone！　　It　was　not　to　be　borne。　　Orders　or　no　orders；　she　would
  carry　the　wallet　to　him。　　He　could　lecture　her　as　much　as　he　pleased。
  To…night；　at　least；　she　would　lay　aside　her　part　as　parlour　maid
  in　the　drama。　　It　would　give　her　something　to　do；　keep　her　mind
  off　herself。　　Nothing　but　excitement　would　pull　her　out　of　this
  semi…hysterical　doldrum。
  She　hid　the　wallet　in　the　pocket　of　her　underskirt。　　Already　her
  blood　was　beginning　to　dance。　　She　ran　into　her　bedroom　for　two
  veils；　a　gray　automobile　puggree　and　one　of　those　heavy　black
  affairs　with　butterflies　scattered　over　it；　quite　as　effectual　as
  a　mask。　　She　wound　the　puggree　about　her　hat。　　When　the　right
  moment　came　she　would　discard　the　puggree　and　drop　the　black　veil。
  Her　coat　was　of　dark　blue；　lined　with　steel…gray　taffeta。　　Turned
  inside　out　it　would　fool　any　man。　　She　wore　spats。　　These　she　would
  leave　behind　when　she　made　the　change。
  Someone　mig