"There'll be no trouble in finding her, sir," he said; "I know who she is. I've seen her a dozen times before, and I'm not apt to be mistaken." The superintendent looked at him questioningly, so the officer went on: "She's the daughter of Douglass Marvin, who used to keep a bookstore in this block. Denton, Day & Co. put him out of business when they opened their book department. He committed suicide soon after he failed. He left a wife and this daughter, and not a penny." "Then the deed was deliberate!" cried Mr. Forbes, almost choking with anger. "The girl is trying to square accounts for what we did to her father!" "Nonsense!" Mr. Watkins uttered the word with extraordinary daring. "She came here to look for a job, and you have offered her one, Mr. Forbes! Mark my words, she'll be on hand to-morrow morning at half-past seven!" "And the money?" The superintendent turned upon the speaker with a perfect thundercloud darkening his face. "Perhaps, as you know so much, Watkins, you can explain about the money!" Before any one could answer the door opened and Mr. Jackson came in again. "Please, Mr. Forbes, the manager says come down quick, sir!" he cried, with a grin. "He can't keep that Government woman out of the basement much longer." CHAPTER III. A GLIMPSE OF THE DARKNESS. When Faith Marvin reached the employees' entrance of Denton, Day & Co.'s department store the next morning at half-past seven, she was shown into a room that was a sort of cloak-room, lunch-room and lavatory combined, in the basement of the building. The place was poorly lighted and badly ventilated, and there were fully two hundred women and girls crowding and jostling each other while they hung up their wraps and put on false sleeves and black aprons. For a while the din was confusing, but Faith soon began to see and hear distinctly. She was amazed and then horrified at the snatches of conversation she heard. Even a little cash girl used language that was almost profanity, and others made remarks of a most heartless nature. Here and there Faith saw a face that looked different from the rest. They were mostly pale, pinched faces, bearing deep lines of care, but they all looked stolid, hardened and indifferent. "I suppose it's the hard work and worry," whispered Faith, involuntarily. Just then she felt some one tapping her smartly on the shoulder. She turned quickly and confronted a woman about her own height, who had the sharpest pair of eyes that Faith ever remembered seeing. "Is this Faith Marvin?" The woman spoke softly, but her voice was cold and metallic. "It is," answered Faith. "I was told to come this morning. Can you give me any information as to where I am to go? I see the others are all hurrying upstairs, but there is no one to direct me." The woman had not taken her eyes from Faith's face while the young girl was talking. She seemed to be scanning her features with more than ordinary curiosity. "Where do you live?"