Chick Carter appeared at the door of the Lexington Avenue lodging house about nine o’clock that evening, and his ring was answered by the landlady herself, one Mrs. Hardy, to whom he stated his mission and plausibly explained why he applied to her at that hour. That Chick made a favorable impression upon the woman, moreover, appeared in that he was invited to enter, though Mrs. Hardy added, a bit doubtfully: “I have only one vacant room at present, sir, and that may not please you. It is a back room on the second floor.” “I think it will answer,” Chick said agreeably. “I can not say just how long I may remain in New York, but I will pay you liberally for the time I am here. My name is Fred Lamont. I am a nephew of Mr. Calvin Page, cashier of the Trinity Trust Company. You can talk with him by telephone, if you require a reference, and he will assure you that I am a desirable tenant.” “I will do so a little later, Mr. Lamont, if I think it necessary,” said the landlady. “I first will show you the room.” Chick accompanied her to the second floor and into a small but neatly furnished back chamber. “That in front is occupied by a young lady, Miss Helen Bailey, who is not at home this evening,” Mrs. Hardy observed, while Chick was glancing around the room. “She has gone to a picture show with a girl who lives a block south from here.” Chick did not demur over taking the room. It was decidedly satisfactory to him, in fact, to have quarters so near the girl’s room, in that he would be easily able to keep a constant eye on her movements when at home, and to learn whether she was visited by her disreputable brother. Chick took the room at once, therefore, paying a week in advance, and inquired, while doing so: “Does Miss Bailey frequently have visitors in the evening? I usually retire quite early. Her room is so near mine that any loud conversation might disturb me.” “Dear me, no!” exclaimed Mrs. Hardy, with a shrug. “Miss Bailey has only two gentlemen callers, and she always receives them in the parlor.” “That’s all right, then,” said Chick, smiling agreeably. “She could pick her choice from most men, Mr. Lamont, as far as that goes,” added the landlady, becoming communicative. “She is a beautiful girl. She could marry the son of one of the wealthiest merchants in New York, if she wanted to, or another one of the firm. I know that, sir, though you may think it improbable.” “One of the firm,” thought Chick. “By Jove, that must be Goulard. Father and son would not be rivals. Besides, Mantell, senior, now has a wife and family. Goulard is a widower, however, and--h’m, this may be worth looking into.” Chick decided not to display any undue curiosity at that time. He left his suit case in the room and accompanied Mrs. Hardy downstairs, stating that he had business outside for about an hour, when he would return, and he then left the house.