“In that case, let me know at once,” Fibsy commanded, and having learned all he could there, he went off to think up some other means of finding the lost Rachel. Meantime Sam Appleby was taking his departure. “I have to go,” he said, in response to the Wheelers’ invitation to tarry longer; “because Keefe is coming down to-morrow. One of us ought to be in father’s office all the time now, there’s so much to attend to.” “Why is Mr. Keefe coming here?” asked Maida. “Mr. Stone wants to see him,” Appleby informed her. “You know, Keefe is more or less of a detective himself, and Mr. Stone thinks he may be helpful in finding the criminal. Miss Lane is coming also, she begged to, mostly, I think, because she took such a liking to you.” “I liked her, too,” returned Maida; “she’s a funny girl but a sincere, thorough nature.” “Yes, she is. Well, they’ll only stay over a day or two, I can’t spare them longer. Of course, they may be of help to Mr. Stone, and they may not. But I don’t want to miss a trick in this investigation. What a queer little chap that boy of Stone’s is!” “Fibsy?” and Maida smiled. “Yes, he’s a case! And he’s my devoted slave.” “As who isn’t?” exclaimed Appleby. “Oh, Maida, do give me a little encouragement. After this awful business is all over, mayn’t I come back with a hope that you’ll smile on me?” “Don’t talk that way, Sam. You know I’m engaged to Jeffrey.” “Oh, no, you’re not. I mean, it can be possible for you to change your mind. Girls are often engaged to several men before they marry.” “I’m not that sort,” and Maida smiled a little sadly. “Be that sort, then.” “You seem to forget that I may be openly accused of crime at any moment. And a crime that hits you pretty closely.” “Don’t say such things, dear. Neither you nor any of your people are responsible for the dreadful thing that happened to father—or, if you are, I never want to know it. And I do want you, Maida dear—so much——” “Hush, Sam; I won’t listen to anything like that from you.” “Not now, but later on,” he urged. “Tell me that I may come back, Maida dear.” “Of course you may come here, whenever you like, but I hold out no hope of the sort you ask for.” “I shall hope all the same. I’d die if I didn’t! Good-bye, Maida, for this time.” He went away to the train, and later, came Keefe and Genevieve Lane. “Oh,” the girl cried, “I’m so glad to be back here again, Maida. My, but you’re prettier than ever! If you’d only touch up those pale cheeks—just a little bit—here, let me——” She opened her ever-ready vanity box, and was about to apply a touch of rouge, but Maida sprang away from her. “No, no, Genevieve, I never use it.” “Silly girl! You don’t deserve the beauty nature gave you, if you’re not willing to help it along a little yourself! How do you do, Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Wheeler?” She greeted them prettily, and Keefe, too, exchanged greetings with the family.