“When widows with orphans from everywhere and some of my friends from nearby cow-towns began to write and ask me about their promised dividends—Well, folks, in time I got wisened to the fact that my name had been used along with the fame of Queer Question production. I asked myself a question that didn’t sound as queer to me as to the bunch of sharpers that I soon put it to. After I’d gathered them in and the Federal Court had helped me hand ’em what was over-due, I started on a long, long trail after the big guy that had planned the crooked deal. I’m still stalking him. He’s lurking down in that gulch of Wall Street to-day or I’m clean off the trail. You see, friends, the Montana Gusher Oil Fields, Inc., hasn’t even a smell of oil. When I find the promoter——” “Montana Gusher—was that the company’s name?” Jane’s interruption was more than interested; was voiced with suppressed excitement. She turned toward her father. “You remember my telling you of Aunt Helene’s narrow escape from buying a block of worthless oil stock a year ago? She was only saved by——” “Child, child, don’t name names,” the blind man reproved her. On his face, however, was the reflex of her startled look. “It’s all right to say ‘child, child,’” insisted the girl vehemently. “You never would believe ill of any one until it was proved at your expense. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that _he_ should have been the one to know all about these far-away oil fields without time for investigation—that _he_ was able to dissuade Auntie against the smooth arguments of a salesman whose claim on him as a friend he had acknowledged? Do you suppose the promoter of Montana Gusher could have been——” “Wait, Jen-Jen. You’d better be sure before suggesting such a charge to this young man. You can see that he is in earnest. If you should be wrong——” “You’re plumb right about my being in earnest,” Pape cut in. “But I’m willing to go into all details before asking you to name me that name. I shouldn’t have minded so much had it been my bank account that was tapped. What they did me out of, though, was the good-faith of my friends and neighbors. When they made _me_ look like the robber of widows and orphans instead of themselves—Well, if ever I get a rope around the scrub neck of that——” On account of an interruption he did not finish the threat. A peculiarly tuneful auto siren sounded up from the street through the open windows. Jane got to her feet with such suddenness as to jeopard the entire China population of the tea-table. She crossed to one of the windows; held the Swiss curtain before her face; looked out and down. “I thought I couldn’t be mistaken.” Her report was low-spoken, but tense. “The Allen car has stopped in the street, across from the house.” “Not—Sam Allen couldn’t have found me over here?” The blind man also arose. With hands out, he swayed after her. “You must be mistaken, Jane. Look again!”