Mrs. Shaw shrugs her shoulders under the old cape. "Why should I care now?" says she. "I sprung a breach of promise suit on him, that's all. I might have known better. He was a hard man, Pyramid Gordon. What with lawyers and the private detectives he set after me, I was glad to get out of the city alive. It was two years before I dared come back--and a rough two years they were too! But you're not raking that up against me at this late date, are you?" "I'm not," says I. "Any move I make will be for your good. But Steele's the man. I'll have to call him in." "Call away, then," says she. "I ain't afraid of him, either." And by luck I catches J. Bayard at his hotel and gets him on the 'phone. "Well?" says I. "How about the fair Josie?" I could hear him groan over the wire. "Hang Josie!" says he. "See here, McCabe, I've had a deuce of a time with that case. Must have been something wrong with the address, you know." "How's that?" says I. "Why," says he, "it led me to a smelly, top-floor flat up in Harlem, and all I could find there was this impossible person, Mrs. Fletcher Shaw. Of all the sniveling, lying, vicious-tongued old harridans! Do you know what she did? Chased me down four flights of stairs with a broom, just because I insisted on seeing Josie Vernon!" "You don't say!" says I. "And you such a star at this knight-errant business! Still want to see Josie, do you?" "Why, of course," says he. "Then come down to the studio," says I. "She's here." "Wha-a-at!" he gasps. "I--I'll be right down." And inside of ten minutes he swings in, all dolled up elegant with a pink carnation in his buttonhole. You should have seen the smile come off his face, though, when he sees what's occupyin' my desk chair. He'd have done a sneak back through the door too, if I hadn't blocked him off. "Steady there, J. Bayard!" says I. "On the job, now!" "But--but this isn't Josie Vernon," says he. "It's that Mrs.----" "One and the same," says I. "The lady says so herself. She's proved it too." "I had you sized up as a police spotter," puts in Mrs. Shaw, "trying to get me for palm reading. Thought you might have run across one of my cards. Josie Vernon's the name I use on them. Sorry if I was too free with the broom." "I was merely returning to tell you, Madam," says Steele, "that I had discovered you to be an impostor. Those five children you claimed as yours did not belong to you at all. The janitor of the building informed me that----" "Yes, I heard him through the dumb-waiter shaft," says Mrs. Shaw. "But I always borrow some youngsters for my poor widow act when I think I'm being shadowed; so you needn't get peeved." "Of course not. How silly of him!" I puts in. "There, Steele, that's all straightened out, and here is the original Josie Vernon. What have you got to suggest?" He stares at me blank, and then takes another look at Mrs. Shaw. I'll admit she wa'n't a fascinatin' sight.