He did not believe it. It seemed utterly impossible for a sweet, mild-mannered little woman like Lillian to develop into a fury. No doubt, when she found that her secret was known, she would collapse in a heap at the feet of her husband, and he—well, Eric believed Joe was fool enough to take her in his arms and forgive her. How could he learn what their plans were? He was thus pondering when he saw a figure in front of him that he thought he recognized. It was the trim maid who had given Prescott the note before. Of course Eric might be mistaken—there were many other like maids besides Mrs. Leslie’s particular, but having the subject in his mind he jumped to the conclusion that this must be the same party he had seen before. She was walking along slowly, looking up at the numbers of the great buildings as if searching for a particular one. Undoubtedly she was looking for the building in which the artist had his studio. Quick as a flash a plan came into the detective’s mind. What should she be looking for Prescott for but to deliver a note? He intercepted her. When he saw her face he discovered that she was an exceedingly youthful looking person to be about thirty years of age, as Joe had declared—had he been asked to guess it he would have said seventeen. Appearances are deceitful, however, especially when women are concerned. As he came face to face with the girl, he smiled—she did not look offended. “I beg your pardon, but are you looking for the office of Paul Prescott?” She seemed surprised. “How did you know, sir?” “Because I am a friend of his with authority to receive the note you have and keep it for him. I presume it is from the same party as the one you gave him last evening.” “You know about that, too?” “Of course—I saw it. Give me the note and tell the lady Paul has it, as he will in half an hour.” “But—I—” “The note, girl.” She met his eyes, placed a note in his hand and turning sped away, while the detective chuckled to think what a cunning little god Fortune was after all. CHAPTER XVIII FORTUNE’S FAVORS At least luck favored him and Eric could not say anything against the sudden whirl of the wheel that had left him in such an advantageous position. He was naturally anxious to scan the note he held and learn its contents. Looking around he saw a candy and ice cream saloon near by, where many ladies and few gentlemen passed in. He believed, as the fall day was warm, that he could enjoy a plate of cream, so he entered, selecting a table in a corner that was isolated. Here he gave his order, and while enjoying his cream opened the note. It was sealed in the envelope, but the gum had stuck poorly, and he could easily open it with his knife blade.