Nick Carter had listened intently, now and then scanning the article which described the affair. “Too bad!” he commented soberly, when Ida had finished. “But haven’t you any explanation, either? The paper doesn’t seem to have any--at least, it doesn’t give any.” A curious expression crossed Ida’s face. “I had forgotten for the moment,” she replied. “I haven’t told you one of the strangest things about it. In common with everybody else, I was so engrossed in watching Helga Lund’s face that I didn’t have much time for anything else. That is why there wasn’t a more general attempt to see whom she was looking at. We wouldn’t ordinarily have been very curious, but she held our gaze so compellingly. I did manage to tear my eyes away once, though; but I wasn’t in a position to see--I was too far to one side. She appeared to be looking at some one almost on a line with our box, but over toward the other side of the theater. I turned my glasses in that direction for a few moments and thought I located the person, a man, but, of course, I couldn’t be sure. I could only see his profile, but his expression seemed to be very set, and he was leaning forward a little, in a tense sort of way.” Nick nodded, as if Ida’s words had confirmed some theory which he had already formed. “But what was so strange about him?” he prompted. “Oh, it doesn’t mean anything, of course,” was the reply; “but he bore the most startling resemblance to Doctor Hiram Grantley. If I hadn’t known that Grantley was safe in Sing Sing for a long term of years, I’m afraid I would have sworn that it was he.” The detective gave Ida a keen, slightly startled look. “Well, stranger things than that have happened in our experience,” he commented thoughtfully. “I haven’t any reason to believe, though, that Grantley is at large again. He would be quite capable of what you have described, but surely Kennedy would have notified me before this if----” The telephone had just rung, and, before Nick could finish his sentence, Joseph, his butler, entered. His announcement caused a sensation. It was: “Long distance, Mr. Carter. Warden Kennedy, of Sing Sing, wishes to speak with you.” The detective got up quickly, without comment, and stepped out into the hall, where the nearest instrument of the several in the house was located. Patsy Garvan gave a low, expressive whisper. “Suffering catfish!” he ejaculated. “It looks as if you were right, Ida!” After that he relapsed into silence and listened, with the others. Nick had evidently interrupted the warden. “Just a moment, Kennedy,” they heard him saying. “I think I can guess what you have to tell me. It’s Doctor Grantley who has escaped, isn’t it?” Naturally, the warden’s reply was inaudible, but the detective’s next words were sufficient confirmation.