steered clear of 'em in other places, and I don't see as there's any reason to think his steering apparatus come to grief while he was in Cuba. 'How's Susan Clegg?' That was what he wrote in the first letter you'd had from him in a dog's age, Mrs. Lathrop, and it showed pretty clear to me who he was thinking of while engaged in the steering operation." "You don't think--" Mrs. Lathrop began distressfully. "No man as was seriously sick, Mrs. Lathrop, ever talked two whole long newspaper columns to a reporter. You can bank on that. He was well enough to make me out the king of prevaricators, and it took some strength and a good deal of attention to small details to do it, and as the Cuban señora never said one word in all that time, I can't think as she is cutting any figure eights in his affairs. Consequently, I don't believe it'll pay either of us to do any great lot of worrying." "If--" Mrs. Lathrop attempted once more to interpolate. "That's just what I told Mr. Kimball. 'If Mrs. Lathrop could only see this paper,' I says, 'I know she'd be delighted.' It stands to reason as a mother must be proud of a son who, after having no more sense than to take a kicking cow for a bad debt, goes to the Klondike and comes back a millionaire; but it stands to reason, too, that she'd be more proud of him to get two columns of free advertising in a New York paper that can sell its columns to the department stores for real money. Well, I asked him for the paper just to show you, and though he didn't feel to part with it, just the same he did in the end, and I carried it away in triumph." "You've brought--" "No, I haven't. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Lathrop, more sorry than I am to disappoint Mr. Kimball in not being able to return it, but the truth is I lost it on the way home." "Lost--" "Every last scrap of it. And I can't say as it was altogether accidental either. As Shakespeare says: 'Self-protection is the best part of valor.' If that paper was ever to get before the Sewing Society, my character would be stripped off me to the last rag. Mr. Kimball can say what was in it, but without the paper itself, he'll have a hard time proving anything, and my word when it comes to a dispute is as good as his and a thousand times better." Mrs. Lathrop leaned forward and for a moment stopped rocking. "You--" she said quietly but tensely. "Tore it into small bits," returned Susan, rising, "and scattered them to the winds of heaven. There's a paper trail all the way from the square to Mrs. Macy's gate." Mrs. Lathrop resumed her rocking and relapsed into silence. Susan Clegg, laying her finger to her lips as a parting warning, went quietly out. XI SUSAN CLEGG AND THE PLAYWRIGHT