He little knew that the police were quietly watching every movement of himself, Doctor Alberg and the now fretful Justine. The cool body servant, Bagley, was a spy by night and day; and even janitor August Helms and the two letter-carriers at the “Circassia” were under the surveillance of roundsman Dan Daly’s friends in plain clothes. A minute mark on every letter and a special time list enabled Miss Mary Kelly, self-possessed and untiring, to compare daily her list with the chief clerk of Station Z. An average detention of two hours on every letter, and the use of prepared decoys, told of the unfaithfulness of the janitor and the collusion of the unfortunate Mulholland, who had succumbed to the demands of a thirst beyond his salary. For the other letter-carrier had vindicated himself, and aided to trap his fellow. Harold Vreeland was now ready for his final bargain with the stony-faced Senator James Garston. He had withdrawn himself from general society, and, as envious swains said, was “making the running” now on Miss Katharine VanDyke Norreys. The tall, blonde beauty’s exquisite grace, her superb dress, her Western free-lance wit, and all the brilliant glow of her youthful freshness, accentuated the charms of golden hair and the almost pleading violet eyes _à l’Imperatrice Eugenie_. Once or twice Vreeland fancied that he had discerned a tenderness beyond their relations in her manner to Senator Garston, but his whole faculties were now devoted to the arrangement of his dual future relations. “I can easily get my price from Mrs. Willoughby—the price of her peace—and I might find a way to discover and return the dangerous paper. “A voyage to London, hunting down Martha Wilmot, and then, a return of the paper to her as a conquering hero.” In fact, the custody of the paper now became a source of daily worry to him. He dared not give it to any other. He feared to deposit it in any bank of the city or in a safety vault. “I am king over Justine while I have it,” he mused, “and to convey it about me is a fearful risk. If I leave it in hiding, a house may burn, and there is always the unexpected to fear. If I should fall ill—” He began to grow morbidly cowardly. He was lulled by Elaine Willoughby’s silence as to her loss. “Of course,” he reflected, “Doctor Alberg, the two nurses and Justine were the only ones who had access to her during the illness following Garston’s sudden appearance. I am a ‘rank outsider’ in all that.” It was clear to him that the Lady of Lakemere had accepted Doctor Alberg’s ingeniously contrived explanation as to Martha Wilmot’s robbery. But the paper—the paper! What to do with it now?