She did not hear me come in, so engrossed was she in her thoughts.  Nor did she notice me at first as I stood just behind her.  Finally I put my hand on her shoulder as if I had been an elder brother.

She looked up into my face.  “Have you heard from him yet?” she asked anxiously.

I could only shake my head sadly.  She sighed.  Involuntarily she rose and together we moved toward the garden, the last place we had seen him about the house.

We had been pacing up and down the garden talking earnestly only a short time when a man made his way in from the Fifth Avenue gate.

“Is this Miss Dodge?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied eagerly.

Neither Elaine nor I knew him at the time, though I think she thought he might be the bearer of some message from Craig.  As a matter of fact he was the emissary to whom the stenographer had thrown the torpedo model from the Navy Building in Washington.

His visit was only a part of a deep-laid scheme.  Only a few minutes before, three crooks—­among them our visitor—­had stopped just below the house on a side street.  To him the others had given final instructions and a note, and he had gone on, leaving the two standing there.

“I have a note for you,” he said, bowing and handing an envelope to Elaine, which she tore open and read.

Washington, D. C.

Miss Elaine Dodge, Fifth Avenue, New York.

My dear Miss Dodge,

The bearer, Mr. Bailey, of the Secret Service, would like to question you regarding the disappearance of Mr. Kennedy and the model of his torpedo.

Morgan Bertrand, U. S. Secret Service.

Even as we were talking the other two crooks had already moved up and had made their way around back of the stone wall that cut off the Dodge garden back of the house.  There they stood, whispering eagerly and gazing furtively over the wall as their man talked to Elaine.

After a moment I stepped aside, while Elaine read the note, and as he asked her a few questions, I could not help feeling that the affair had a very suspicious look.  The more I thought of it, the less I liked it.  Finally I could stand it no longer.

“I beg your pardon,” I excused myself to the alleged Mr. Bailey, “but may I speak to Miss Dodge alone just a minute?”

He bowed, rather ungraciously I thought, and Elaine followed me aside while I told her my fears.

“I don’t like the looks of it myself,” she agreed.  “Yes, I’ll be very careful what I say.”

While we were talking I could see out of the corner of my eye that the fellow was looking at us askance and frowning.  But if I had had an X-ray eye, I might have seen his two companions on the other side of the wall, peering over as they had been before and showing every evidence of annoyance at my interference.

The man resumed his questioning of Elaine regarding the torpedo and she replied guardedly, as in fact she could not do otherwise.