Nick left the phone troubled in mind. Leonard's absence from home was indication that business of pressing importance had demanded his attention, for his rule, so the detective had been informed by Dashwood, was to remain at home every evening. He cared nothing for theaters or social divertisements, belonged to no club or secret order. The business of each day over, he betook himself to his suburban residence, there to find comfort and rest in his pipe and newspapers. Nick went up to the counter and engaged in conversation with the barkeeper. "How's business this evening?" "Rotten. Everybody is at the fair." "Gives you opportunity to get a breath of fresh air as compensation, though." "Yes, that's so. I stood at the door from eight until eight-forty-five without a break." "Studying the people who passed?" "In a way." "All sorts and conditions in town during the fair. Good chance for a novelist to make copy." "That's right. Now, I saw something to-night that might give one of these fiction fellows a cue. A fact here and there is all they want. Imagination does the rest." "What did you see, if it is a fair question?" "I saw a woman act in two scenes." "Monologue?" "No, she had company, but she was the star. Great woman that. I know her name, but I've never spoken to her. Wish I did know her. I'd ask her what her little play to-night might mean." "Say," said Nick, with an eagerness that was not assumed, but which was purposely allowed vent, "you are exciting my curiosity. What was her play? But first let's smoke, unless you prefer liquid refreshment." "No, a cigar suits me." After each man had lighted his weed, the barkeeper began his story: "I had been at the door not more than five minutes when my lady comes up and starts for the elevator. Her lips were shut tight, and she looked as if she had it in for some one and was going to call for a settlement. She was gone about three minutes, and then reappeared, in company with Luke Filbon, the bookkeeper and cashier of the manufacturing company. Filbon, who is a young geezer with not enough sense to last him overnight, appeared to be dippy with fright. They did not see me, for I was standing off the sidewalk, and so I got the full benefit of the scene without putting up a bean. The way that woman's tongue lashed young Filbon was a caution to sinners. 'You shouldn't have waited so long,' she said. 'You should have taken it out when you left the office this afternoon. You are a poor, weak, pitiful fool. I want nothing more to do with you. If I had not more spunk than you have I'd cut my throat. Go. You've ruined everything. You have destroyed my chance, and you have destroyed your own. You're fit for nothing but to wear stripes. Get out of my sight.' "'I'll go home, get my revolver, and blow out my brains, that's what I'll do,' Filbon said. 'I thought you loved me, but it was the money you wanted, not me.'