One of them gave a slight start as her garments brushed by him, took a step forward for a second look at her, then he quietly broke away from the others, and followed her, about a dozen yards behind, up Chambers street.

The woman did not appear to notice that she was being followed, for she did not accelerate her speed in the least, nor seem to pay any heed to what was going on about her.  She kept straight on, as if her mind was intent only upon her own business.

But all at once, as she reached the corner of Broadway, she slipped into a carriage that stood waiting there, and was driven rapidly up town.

An angry exclamation burst from the man following her, who was none other than Rider, the detective, and he hastened forward to catch another glimpse of the carriage, if possible, before it should get out of sight.

He saw it in the distance, and hailing another, he gave chase as fast as the crowded condition of the street would permit.

Some twenty minutes later he came upon the same carriage standing on another corner, the driver as quiet and unconcerned as if he had not been dodging vehicles at the risk of a smash-up, or urging his horses to a lawless pace in that busy thoroughfare.

But the coach was empty.

Mr. Rider alighted and accosted the man.

“Where is the passenger that you had a few minutes ago?” he inquired.

The man pointed with his whip to a store near by, then relapsed into his indolent and indifferent attitude.

Mr. Rider shook his head emphatically, to indicate his disbelief of this pantomimic information, and muttered a few words not intended for polite ears as he turned on his heel and moved away.

“Fooled again,” he added, “and I thought I had her sure this time.  Of course she didn’t go into that store any more than that other party went from St. Louis to Chicago.  But it’s worth something to know that she is in New York.  I’ll try to keep my eyes open this time.”

In spite of his skepticism, however, he entered the store and sauntered slowly through it, but without encountering any woman in black, having red hair.

“She came off the Puritan,” he mused, as he issued into the street again, and turned his face up town.  “I imagine that she either came on from Fall River last night, or she is going back this afternoon.  I’ll hang round there about the time the Puritan leaves.  Meantime I’ll take a stroll in some of the upper tendom regions, for I’ll bet she is a high-liver.”

He boarded a car and was soon rolling up toward the more aristocratic portion of the city, and thus we must leave him for a while.

When Ray returned to Mrs. Montague’s residence for Mona, he found another carriage waiting at the door, and it was just at this moment that Mona made her strange discovery in the woman’s bedroom.

“Mr. Corbin’s carriage,” Ray murmured to himself as he alighted and went up the steps.  “I wonder if Mr. Graves is with him, and if Mrs. Montague has returned.  I hope she has not made matters unpleasant for Mona.”