"Well," said Mr. Graham slowly, "she asked me to dispose at once of such of her securities as I thought best, in order that I might place in her hands by to-morrow night one hundred thousand dollars in cash--a cool hundred thousand!" CHAPTER VIII The Mysterious Maid "A hundred thousand dollars!" ejaculated Mr. Royce, and sat staring at his chief. "A hundred thousand dollars! That's a good deal for a girl to give away in a lump, but she can afford it. Of course, we've nothing to do but carry out her instructions. I think both of us can guess what she intends doing with the money." The other nodded. I believed that I could guess, too. The money, of course, was intended for the other woman--she was not to suffer for her crime, after all. Miss Holladay seemed to me in no little danger of becoming an accessory after the fact. "She seems really ill," continued our senior. "She looks thinner and quite careworn. I commended her resolution to seek rest and quiet and change of scene." "When does she go, sir?" asked Mr. Royce, in a subdued voice. "The day after to-morrow, I think. She did not say definitely. In fact, she could talk very little. She's managed to catch cold--the grip, I suppose--and was very hoarse. It would have been cruelty to make her talk, and I didn't try." He wheeled around to his desk, and then suddenly back again. "By the way," he said, "I saw the new maid. I can't say I wholly approve of her." He paused a minute, weighing his words. "She seems careful and devoted," he went on, at last, "but I don't like her eyes. They're too intense. I caught her two or three times watching me strangely. I can't imagine where Miss Holladay picked her up, or why she should have picked her up at all. She's French, of course--she speaks with a decided accent. About the money, I suppose we'd better sell a block of U. P. bonds. They're the least productive of her securities." "Yes, I suppose so," agreed Mr. Royce, and the chief called up a broker and gave the necessary orders. Then he turned to other work, and the day passed without any further reference to Miss Holladay or her affairs. The proceeds of the sale were brought to the office early the next afternoon, a small packet neatly sealed and docketed--one hundred thousand-dollar bills. Mr. Graham turned it over in his hand thoughtfully. "You'll take it to the house, of course, John," he said to his partner. "Lester 'd better go with you." So Mr. Royce placed the package in his pocket, a cab was summoned, and we were off. The trip was made without incident, and at the end of half an hour we drew up before the Holladay mansion.