Mrs. Carew joined me, and none of us said anything till we reached the station platform. Then as I set the child down, I gave her one look. She was beaming with gratitude. "That saved us, together with the few words I could edge in between his loud regrets at my going and his exclamations of grief over Gwendolen's loss. On the train I shall fear nothing. If you will lift him up I will wrap him in this shawl as if he were ill. Once in New York--are you not going to permit me?" "To go to New York, yes; but not to the steamer." She showed anger, but also an admirable self-control. Far off we could catch the sounding thrill of the approaching train. "I yield," she announced suddenly. And opening the bag at her side, she fumbled in it for a card which she presently put in my hand. "I was going there for lunch," she explained. "Now I will take a room and remain until I hear from you." Here she gave me a quick look. "You do not appear satisfied." "Yes, yes," I stammered, as I looked at the card and saw her name over that of an inconspicuous hotel in the down-town portion of New York City. "I merely--" The nearing of the train gave me the opportunity of cutting short the sentence I should have found it difficult to finish. "Here is the child," I exclaimed, lifting the little one, whom she immediately enveloped in the light but ample wrap she had chosen as a disguise. "Good-by--Harry." "Good-by! I like you. Your arms are strong and you don't shake me when you run." Mrs. Carew smiled. There was deep emotion in her face. "_Au revoir!_" she murmured in a tone implying promise. Happily I understood the French phrase. I bowed and drew back. Was I wrong in letting her slip from my surveillance? The agitation I probably showed must have caused her some thought. But she would have been more than a diviner of mysteries to have understood its cause. Her bag, when she had opened it before my eyes, had revealed among its contents a string of remarkable corals. A bead similar in shape, color and marking rested at that very moment over my own heart. Was that necklace one bead short? With a start of conviction I began to believe so and that I was the man who could complete it. If that was so--why, then--then-- It isn't often that a detective's brain reels--but mine did then. The train began to move-- This discovery, the greatest of all, if I were right, would-- I had no more time to think. Instinctively, with a quick jump, I made my place good on the rear car. XXIV "SHALL I GIVE HIM MY WORD, HARRY?" I did not go all the way to New York on the train which Mrs. Carew and the child had taken. I went only as far as Yonkers.