"Oh, you play solitaire. How many variations do you know?" "One hundred and thirty-five." "I can count one hundred and forty-two." "Including the 'Bridge'?" "The famous 'Bridge'! Do you know it, then?" "I learned it from a Polish gentleman in Belgrade." "It is difficult." "Enormously so. It may come out once in a hundred times." Madame L. Hernandez produced a pack of cards from underneath the counter. "Will you oblige me, senor? I am anxious to see the play." Indiman proceeded with the explanation. It was too intricate for me to follow. I could only understand that, with the solitaire properly resolved, the cards should finally divide themselves into four packs, headed respectively by the ace of clubs, king of diamonds, queen of spades, and knave of hearts. Indiman tried it twice, but the combination would not come out. "We will try it again to-morrow," said Indiman, rising. "With pleasure. Good-day, gentlemen. Mind the step." As we walked towards Chatham Square a stout man joined us, a man with one ear noticeably larger than the other. "Mr. Indiman--" he began, deferentially. "What, you, Brownson?" "Yes, sir. I have an assignment on this job from the Central Office. I saw you coming out of L. Hernandez's just now. Smooth old bird, ain't it?" "You on this case?" said Indiman, stupefied. "Yes, sir. You see, the parties concerned finally determined to put it into our hands, and they'd have been enough sight better off if they'd done it in the beginning. Bless you! it's no great shakes of a lay-out. There's the letter--a single sheet of note-paper written in violet ink on one side only, and we know the party who has it up her sleeve. L. Hernandez--I don't mind saying it, seeing that you're also on. I'll do the trick within three days, or you can boil my head for a corned-beef dinner." "Well, good luck to you, Brownson," said Indiman, absently. There was a cab-rank here in Chatham Square, and we drove up-town to the Utinam Club for a late luncheon. While we were waiting for our filet to be prepared Indiman wrote a brief note and had it despatched by messenger; it was addressed, as he showed me, to Madame L. Hernandez,--Division Street. "I'm not going to have that booby upset the apple-cart for a second time," he said, savagely. "Now we shall have to wait for at least three days." This was on Monday; on Friday we presented ourselves again to Madame L. Hernandez. She received us politely, almost graciously; she sat in the great chair behind the counter, engaged in the truly feminine occupation of putting up her hair in curl-papers. A pad of stiff, white writing-paper lay on the counter before her, and from it she tore the strips as she needed them. "I am tired of these bandeaux," she explained, smilingly. "My friends tell me that curls will become me infinitely better." "Your friends have reason," acquiesced Indiman; "but tell me, madame, did you receive my note?"