The door frame was white set in brick. The door was stained oak. I reached out to lift the knocker and saw I had a fist full of money. I reached out with the other hand. It had the card in it. I hooked the little finger under the knocker and lifted it, letting it fall. It emitted a feeble tap. After a while I saw the door moving inward. Pausing in my futile stabbing for my pockets, I lifted my eyes slowly, beginning with the shapely hips encased in spotlessly clean watermelon red, past the slim waist with its black belt, pausing at the firm lift of the breast, jumping to the smooth neck, and finally coming to the face with its smooth contours, red lips, blue eyes lit with questioning curiosity, and iridescent waves of spun brown hair. Not daring to talk, I mutely held out the card. * * * * * Her graceful curves of eyebrows lifted just a trifle as she looked at the card. Then her eyes surveyed me again, quickly. "Won't you please come in?" she asked, stepping backward invitingly. I went past her with an attempt at dignity. The door closed behind me. Her feet tapped pertly on the foyer floor as she went past me and opened another door. "Wait in here Mr. Stevens," she said, her voice rich in velvet overtones. "I'll tell my father you're here." I ducked my head at her in acquiescence and went past her into the room, a luxurious library. The door closed softly as I dropped into the soft enfoldment of a pillow-lined barrel chair. Abruptly I sat up, staring at the blank face of the closed door, my eyes large and round. She had called me by name! I was still staring at the door when it jerked open. Dr. Leopold Moriss strode in closing it after him, his steps and motions jerky and swift. "Well, well, well," he said. "So you came after all." "How did your daughter know my name?" I asked. His shoulders arched back in a gesture of amusement. "She should know," he said. "I've done nothing but talk about January Stevens this and January Stevens that for the past two months." "Two months?" I echoed dumbly. "The detective agency I put on the job of finding you did an almost impossible job," he went on, in high good humor. "They followed you from the time you moved out of your bachelor apartment three years ago, to Los Angeles, Seattle, through Kansas, and right back here to Chicago again. When they found you they came and got me, and pointed you out to me in the park." "I don't get it," I said, bewildered. "That kind of a search would cost plenty. After paying that kind of dough I can understand your willingness to throw two hundred after it in a--childish gesture. But why? Since you know me, you must know I was kicked out of the Bentley Research Laboratories because I refused to account for five thousand dollars of research funds." "I know more than that," Dr. Leopold Moriss said, crisp sureness in his tones. "What do you mean?" I asked woodenly.