On the morrow, Fitzgerald recounted the adventure in a semi-humorous fashion, making a brisk melodrama out of it, to the quiet amusement of his small audience. "I shall send for the mason this morning," said the admiral. "I've been dreaming of _The Black Cat_ and all sorts of horrible things. I hate like sixty to spoil the old chimney, but we can't have this going on. We'll have it down at once. A fire these days is only a nice touch to the mahogany." "But you must tell him to put back every brick in its place," said Laura. "I could not bear to have anything happen to that chimney. All the same, I am glad the matter is going to be cleared up. It has been nerve-racking; and I have been all alone, waiting for I know not what." "You haven't been afraid?" said Fitzgerald. "I'm not sure that I haven't." She sighed. "Nonsense!" cried the admiral. "I am not afraid of anything I can see; but I do not like the dark; I do not like mysteries." "You're the bravest girl I know, Laura," her father declared. "Now, Mr. Breitmann, if you don't mind." "Shall we begin at once, sir?" "You will copy some of my notes, to begin with. Any time you're in doubt over a word, speak to me. There will not be much outside of manuscript work. Most of my mail is sorted at my bankers, and only important letters forwarded. There may be a social note occasionally. Do you read and write English as well as you speak it?" "Oh, yes." Laura invited Fitzgerald to the tennis court. "In these shoes?" he protested. "They will not matter; it is a cement court." "But I shan't look the game. Tennis without flannels is like duck without apples." "Bother! We'll play till the mason comes up. And mind your game. I've been runner-up in a dozen tournaments." And he soon found that she had not overrated her skill. She served strongly, volleyed beautifully, and darted across the court with a fleetness and a surety both delightful to observe. So interested were they in the battle that they forgot all about the mason, till the butler came out, and announced that the desecration had begun. In fact the broad marble top was on the floor, and the room full of impalpable dust. The admiral and the secretary were gravely stacking the bricks, one by one, as they came out. "Found anything?" asked the girl breathlessly. "Not yet; but Mr. Donovan here has just discovered a hollow space above the mantel line." The admiral sneezed. Mr. Donovan, in his usual free and happy way, drew out two bricks, and dropped them on the polished floor. "There's your holler, sir," he said, dusting his hands. Unbidden, Breitmann pushed his hand into the cavity. His arm went down to the elbow, and he was forced to stand on tiptoe. He was pale when he withdrew his arm, but in his hand was a square metal case, about the size and shape of a cigar box. "By cracky! What's the matter, Mr. Breitmann?" The admiral stepped forward solicitously.