"This time," announced the Secret Service man, "you won't be released merely because of a fake ad. and the testimony of your friends. Pretty clever scheme, that. Inserting a 'found advertisement' to cover your possession of counterfeit money in case you were caught. But you overlooked a couple of points. The station in Baltimore was thoroughly swept just five minutes before your train arrived from New York and every man on duty there is ready to swear that he wouldn't have overlooked anything as large as the envelope containing that phony money. Then, too, the clerk in the _News_ office received your advertisement shortly after noon the next day--so you didn't advertise it 'at once,' as you said you did. "But your biggest mistake was in playing the game too often. Here"--producing a page from the classified section of a New York newspaper--"is the duplicate of your Baltimore ad., inserted to cover your tracks in case they caught you at Jamaica. I've got the original, in your handwriting, in my pocket." "But how'd you happen to arrive here at the right moment?" exclaimed Rita. "I wasn't any too well convinced that you'd fooled our friend here," Graham replied. "So I trailed you, and, attracted by the light from Thurene's lantern, managed to break in that window at the time you needed me." "There's only one thing that puzzles me," the operative continued, turning to Thurene. "What made you take up counterfeiting? Your business record was clear enough before that, and, of course, being an engraver, it wasn't hard for you to find the opportunity. What was the motive?" For a full sixty seconds the man was silent and then, from between his clenched teeth, came two words, "Wall Street." "I might have guessed that," replied Graham. "I'll see you safely in jail first and then have a look through your room. Want to come along, Rita?" "No, thanks, Spencer. I've had enough for one evening. Let's see. This is the sixth of December. Suppose we plan a certain event for the sixth of January?" * * * * * "And so they were married and lived happily ever after?" I added, as Quinn paused. "And so they were married," he amended. "I can't say as to the rest of it--though I'm inclined to believe that they were happy. Anyhow, Rita knew when she had enough--and that's all you can really ask for in a wife." XX IN THE SHADOW OF THE CAPITOL "It won't be long until they're all back--with their pretty clothes and their jeweled bags and their air of innocent sophistication--but until at least a dozen of them gather here Washington won't be itself again." Bill Quinn and I had been discussing the change which had come over Washington since peace had disrupted the activities of the various war organizations, and then, after a pause, the former member of the Secret Service had referred to "them" and to "their pretty clothes."