"He thinks he’s found her," said Dan convincingly. "He never acts like that without a reason. Rags, find Teacher! Where is she, Rags?" "Bow-wow!" answered Rags sharply, as much as to say, "Why don’t you open the door and find her yourself?" An old woman came to the door, and looked sharply at the dog on her clean step. Charles took off his hat. "We are looking for a friend, madam, who is stopping in this neighborhood somewhere, and we do not know her address. Our dog thinks he has found a trace of her, but he is probably mistaken. You don’t happen to have noticed anywhere near here, a young woman with dark eyes and dark, curling hair, lately come to the city—not more than two months ago, perhaps?" "You wouldn’t be meanin’ pretty Mary Montgomery—bless her heart!—would ye?" the old woman asked quizzically, surveying the two. But Rags had stayed not on the order of his going. He had dashed past the old woman and up the stairs to the floor above. "Och! Look at the little varmint!" said the old woman, forgetting her question and dashing after the dog, thus missing the startled look that came into the faces of both young men. But after a series of short, sharp barks, Rags returned as quickly as he had gone, almost knocking the old lady down her rickety stairs, in his delight, and bearing in his mouth a fragment of gray cloth which he brought and laid triumphantly at his master’s feet. Dan stooped and picked it up almost reverently and smoothed the frayed edges. It was a bit of Dawn’s gray school-dress that she had torn off where the facing was worn and had caught her foot as she walked. Dan recognized the cloth at once. Charles had never seen the gown, but he saw that the bit of cloth had some significance to Dan. He rushed in after the old lady, who had now descended the stairs wrathfully behind the dog. "Tell me where this Miss Montgomery is, please," he said as quietly as he could. He had followed so many clues and seen them turn into nothing before his eyes, he scarcely could dare hope now. His heart was beating wildly. Was he to see Dawn again at last? "Och! An’ I wish I knew, the darlint!" said the garrulous old woman. "She lift me yistherday marnin’, an’ it’s thrue I miss the sight o’ her sweet smile an’ her pretty ways. She was a young wummun of quality, was she, an’ I sez to me dauther, sez I, ’Kate, mind the ways o’ her, the pretty ways o’ Mary Montgomery,’ sez I, ’fer it’s not soon ye’ll see such a lady agin.’" "Has she been here in your house, do you say?" asked Charles anxiously. He felt he must keep very calm or he might lose the clue.