Connor started to do so and the catch caught, then as he used more strength it flew open with such suddenness that half its contents rolled to the floor. Inspector North instantly retrieved each article. “Is there nothing but money?” asked Connor, contemplating the Treasury notes which his companion laid on his desk. “That’s all, except this.” And the inspector handed him a black-edged card. Connor read the block lettering with interest: Miss Vera Deane Graduate nurse Making no further comment, Chief Connor sorted each bill in its proper denomination, and in a few minutes had several neat piles of gold and greenback certificates of varying amounts stacked in front of him. Taking up a microscope he examined each bill, testing the quality of the paper between his fingers, and in certain instances he jotted down the check letter, series, and charter numbers. “Has Miss Deane notified Headquarters of the loss of her bag?” he asked finally. “There is quite a tidy sum of money here--three hundred dollars.” “So I observed,” answered Inspector North dryly. “No, Miss Deane has not notified Headquarters; on the contrary, I telephoned her of its present whereabouts, and she denied ownership of the bag.” “Indeed!” Connor sat erect and pressed his desk buzzer, and an assistant appeared from an inner office. “Examine these bills, Neale,” he directed, and waited until the operative had disappeared with the money. “So Miss Deane denies the bag is hers. Did you tell her its contents?” “No. I only said it contained her black-edged visiting-card.” North hesitated. “Miss Deane’s sister is society editor of the _Tribune_. I have just learned at the office that the young ladies are not now in mourning. From another source I heard that Judge Deane, their father, died about seven years ago and his wife did not long survive him. Of course it is possible that some friend of hers had one of her old visiting-cards instead of her own in the bag, especially as Miss Deane declares her bag is in her own possession at home.” “That is a plausible theory, but--” It was Connor’s turn to hesitate, and the inspector broke the silence. “It is strange that the real owner doesn’t claim the bag, considering that its disappearance involves the loss of three hundred dollars,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s that puzzle which has brought me to you. Few people lose such a sum of money in a street car without raising a fuss about it.” “My dear North, the presence of the money is obviously the reason why the bag goes unclaimed,” retorted Connor, and the inspector leaned forward excitedly. “You mean--?” “That many of the bank notes are counterfeit. The owner of that bag will be the last to claim it. Well, Neale, what have you to report?” The operative advanced to the desk and placed the Treasury notes again on the desk with memorandum attached.