Steingall and Clancy were highly amused by Carshaw's account of the "second burning of Fairfield," as the little man described the struggle between Winifred's abductors and her rescuer. The latter, not so well versed in his country's history as every young American ought to be, had to consult a history of the Revolution to learn that Fairfield was burned by the British in 1777. The later burning, by the way, created a pretty quarrel between two insurance companies, the proprietors of two garages and the owner of a certain bullock, with Carshaw's lawyer and a Bridgeport lawyer, instructed by "Mr. Ralph Voles," as interveners. "And where is the young lady now?" inquired Steingall, when Carshaw's story reached its end. "Living in rooms in a house in East Twenty-seventh Street, a quiet place kept by a Miss Goodman." "Ah! Too soon for any planning as to the future, I suppose?" "We talked of that in the train. Winifred has a voice, so the stage offers an immediate opening. But I don't like the notion of musical comedy, and the concert platform demands a good deal of training, since a girl starts there practically as a principal. There is no urgency. Winifred might well enjoy a fortnight's rest. I have counseled that." "A stage wait, in fact," put in Clancy, sarcastically. By this time Carshaw was beginning to understand the peculiar quality of the small detective's wit. "Yes," he said, smiling into those piercing and brilliant eyes. "There are periods in a man's life when he ought to submit his desires to the acid test. Such a time has come now for me." "But 'Aunt Rachel' may find her. Is she strong-willed enough to resist cajoling, and seek the aid of the law if force is threatened?" "Yes, I am sure now. What she heard and saw of those two men during the mad run along the Post Road supplied good and convincing reasons why she should refuse to return to Miss Craik." "Why are you unwilling to charge them with attempted murder?" said Steingall, for Carshaw had stipulated there should be no legal proceedings. "My lawyers advise against it," he said simply. "You've consulted them?" "Yes, called in on my way here. When I reached home after seeing Winifred fixed comfortably in Miss Goodman's, I opened a letter from my lawyers, requesting an interview--on another matter, of course. Meaning to marry Winifred, if she'll take me, I thought it wise to tell them something about recent events." Steingall carefully chose a cigar from a box of fifty, all exactly alike, nipped the end off, and lighted it. Clancy's fingers drummed impatiently on the table at which the three were seated. Evidently he expected the chief to play Sir Oracle. But the head of the Bureau contented himself with the comment that he was still interested in Winifred Bartlett's history, and would be glad to have any definite particulars which Carshaw might gather. Clancy sighed so heavily on hearing this "departmental" utterance that Carshaw was surprised.