“Mr. Carter,” said Ida, “has neither wish nor disposition to do anything to your injury. You are of no consequence to him, as important as you doubtless regard yourself, except as you bear a relation to the mysterious disappearance of Mr. Ellison, and have knowledge of events leading up to that disappearance.” “I am sure,” replied Miss Rainforth, with a sneer, “I’m obliged to the consideration of Mr. Carter.” Ida gave no heed to the sneer, but went on: “In the first place, I want to know how you came to have knowledge of the intended robbery of the wedding presents.” “Really?” sneered Miss Rainforth. Ida saw that the young lady was recovering from the panic into which she had been thrown, and was regaining possession of herself. She made an attempt to frighten the young lady again. “I presume, Miss Rainforth,” she said, “that you are intelligent enough to understand that you are at present in the position of one who is in relations with a notorious thief and burglar, one Lannigan?” The young lady started violently. “Lannigan!” she repeated. “Lannigan made the attempt to enter the house of Mr. Sanborn yesterday morning,” said Ida. “Indeed, he did enter it, and was recognized by Mr. Carter. He was driven off at that time and, though his gang made two other efforts later, they also were defeated.” “They did make the attempt?” said Miss Rainforth. “I thought they had not done so.” Ida made a bold play. “Oh, they kept their part of the bargain,” she said. It was a false play, for the young woman looked at Ida with a puzzled face. Ida instantly saw it, and hastened to regain her ground. “You do not answer my question,” she said. “How did you come to know of this intended robbery?” “You are looking for Mr. Ellison,” said Miss Rainforth. “Of what use is that knowledge to you in such a search?” “It is a step in the beginning,” replied Ida. “Understand, Miss Rainforth, you are related to this search, and to the mysterious disappearance of Mr. Ellison, either remotely or intimately, and evasion on your part will only involve you in trouble--in all the shame and disgrace that publicity of the matter, which will soon be a sensation, will involve.” The young woman winced, an anxious expression appearing on her face, and Ida knew that the string upon which she must pull was the one of the young lady’s fear of notoriety. “I must insist upon an answer to that question,” she said. “There are many ways of conducting our business. As a rule, we work in secret, but there are times when we are forced to take the public in our confidence, and make a part of our search through the newspapers. We have no desire to do that at any time, but it begins to look as if we would have to do so in this case, and you can see the position you would be in--you, a young lady of fashion, placed before the public as an associate of thieves and the frequenter of fast places at midnight.” The young woman leaped to her feet with the remark: