"One night when he went for her she could not be found. No one had seen her leave--she had mysteriously disappeared. Mr. Isburn gave me the case. I'll make the story short for it is eleven o'clock."

"I know how to get out. Mr. Ca.s.s told me."

"Your knowledge of a method of egress does not warrant an extension of your visit to midnight, does it?" asked Mary laughingly.

"Considering the attractions presented, I think they do," replied Quincy, banteringly.

She resumed her story.

"There was a man in the case, young, handsome, and wealthy. Just such a man as she should have married. They had planned an elopement to Europe.

Not together. She was to go to Liverpool, he was to follow later to Paris, and there meet her. Quite ingenious, wasn't it? Our agent at Liverpool was called to locate her and prevent her inamorata from communicating with her, at the same time using his influence to induce her to return to Boston without meeting her lover. His powers of persuasion, I mean our agent's, must have been great, for she consented.

"A month later she attended a reception next door to the house from which she disappeared, and silenced the tongue of scandal by saying that she had been hastily summoned to the bedside of a sick friend, her chum at Wellesley, and had returned home only the day previous. Her last statement was true. Good detective work by a good detective, and a great, big white lie fooled her friends and acquaintances, but if I were her husband she would not lack attention or admiration in the future, and I would furnish it."

"When I get married, I will bear your admonition in mind."

"I have another admonition. If you meet Mr. Ca.s.s when you go down, be nice to him. Why, when you know him, he is a treasure. I can bear his inquisitiveness, for it shields me from others. This is my sanctuary, and Mr. Ca.s.s protects me from the literary wolves--the reporters. He thinks I am a writer because I have so many books, and, to him, an author is next to an angel. Was he rude to you? You must forgive him, for he is my Saint George who protects me from the Dragon."

Quincy was mollified to a certain extent. "Do I look like a Dragon? If I am one, history came near being reversed, for at one time your Saint George's hold on life was frail."

Late in the afternoon of the next day Quincy made another call on Mary.

He had telephoned and learned that she was in her room. Mr. Ca.s.s was temporarily absent from his desk and Quincy went at once to the elevator.

"I axed Mr. Ca.s.s about his tongue," said the elevator man.

"Was it better?" asked Quincy.

"He said I was labourin' under a misapprihinsion. What's that?"

"He meant that it was improving," said Quincy, as he hurried from the elevator.

"How did you get home last night?" was Mary's salutation as he entered.

"I groped my way down two flights of stairs in the dark. When I opened the front door by the upper handle as Mr. Ca.s.s had kindly instructed me to do, I found that gentleman on the steps. 'Quite late,' said he. 'Not for me,' said I. At that moment my auto drew up at the curb."

"A narrow escape from a Ca.s.s-trophe," exclaimed Miss Dana. "Pardon the pun, but sometimes he is insufferably loquacious."

Quincy smiled grimly. "He wasn't through with me. He followed me. 'My employer.' he began, 'is very tenacious on several points, and one of them is the acceleration of matrimonial preliminaries, commonly called courting, in the house which he owns and successfully conducts with my humble a.s.sistance. Will you allow me to ask you a question?'

"Alexander had opened the auto door, and I stood with one foot on the step."

Quincy was silent for a moment. Miss Dana's curiosity was excited.

"What did he ask you to do?"

"His question was--'are you going to marry Miss Dana?'"

"Preposterous!" cried Miss Dana. "I shall leave the 'Cawthorne'

to-morrow. What answer did you give to so impertinent a question?"

"I said, not to-night. Not until to-morrow. Then I jumped in, slammed the door, and off we went leaving Mr. Ca.s.s fully informed as to my intentions."

Mary thought, under the circ.u.mstances, that a change of subjects was necessary.

"I am working on the Harrison case. I don't believe he poisoned his wife. I think the law killed an innocent man."

"Another Robert Wood affair? Have you seen your little namesake, Mary Wood?"

"Yes. I am going to spend to-morrow in the laboratory making toxic a.n.a.lyses."

"I've been very busy to-day."

"Not working?"

"No, getting ready to. I've bought out an established business."

"You said you disliked business."

"Not this kind. You were right about Isburn. He didn't mean what he said about giving you a half-interest in the agency."

"I'm not disappointed. I didn't think he did. Why should he pay me for returning what I took from him as a professional joke?"

"Well I fixed it up with him, and he will sail for Europe with his niece as soon as we can take charge."

"We? Why, what _do_ you mean, Mr. Sawyer?"

"I mean that I've engaged to pay Mr. Isburn one hundred thousand dollars for his agency, a one-half interest to become mine and the other half to be transferred to my wife as soon as I am married, which will be soon."

"Then you will be my employer," and Mary's blue eyes were opened as wide as they could be.

"Within a week, I shall be Mr. Isburn. I shall not use my own name."

His manner changed instantly.

"This morning I met an old college friend. He was doing the historical points of old Boston with his father and his father's friend, a Rev. Mr.

Dysart of Yonkers, New York."

Miss Dana started, and exclaimed, involuntarily, "Mr. Dysart--not Mr.

Octavius Dysart?"

"Yes, that was the name. Why, do you know him? I'll be honest, I know you do."

"My mother was born in Yonkers, and Mr. Dysart was the clergyman who officiated at my father's wedding. He used to call on us whenever he came to Boston. But how did he know that you knew me?"

"He said he was going to Fernborough to see your father, and I availed myself of the opportunity to mention my acquaintance with you. He wished you could come and see him."

"Where is he? Of course I will go."