Craig grunted with the satisfaction of one who had received interesting information; knowledge that Latisan would be regularly in Adonia helped some plans which the director had been revolving. Latisan lashed his horses away toward the north. Craig took the forenoon train down over the narrow-gauge, headed for New York. He was seeking that aid of which he had boasted--city brains. In handling certain affairs of his in the past he had found the Vose-Mern Detective Agency both crafty and active--and the roundabout method of craft, he decided, was the proper way to get at Latisan, without involving the Comas folks in any scandal. CHAPTER NINE Not cattishly, but with patronizing pity, Miss Leigh, bookkeeper, remarked to Miss Javotte, filing clerk, that if Miss Kennard did not change that green toque with the white quill to something else pretty soon, she could be identified by her hat better than by her fingerprints. Miss Leigh had been showing one of her new spring hats to Miss Javotte; she was able to express a _sotto voce_ opinion about Miss Kennard's toque because Miss Kennard, stenographer, was rattling her typewriter full tilt. Miss Javotte agreed, spreading her fingers fan shape and inspecting certain rings with calm satisfaction. "And not even a rock--only that same old-fashioned cameo thing--speaking of fingers." "I was speaking of fingerprints," said Miss Leigh, tartly, frowning at the display of rings, perfectly well aware that they were not bought on the installment plan out of a filing clerk's wages.