With infinite pains Duncan searched the table and then the floor. Leaving the library he went carefully down the hall and staircase, and from there to the front door and down to the street. Finding no trace of any bank notes, he retraced his steps to the house, but instead of mounting the stairs he went up in the lift, first carefully examining its interior. On reaching the drawing-room floor he returned to the library and sat for some time contemplating the fire. The tinkle of the telephone bell aroused him, and he hastened to remove the receiver. “Yes, this is Duncan Fordyce,” he called. “Yes, Janet, what is it?” “I can’t rent a pair of skates here that will fit me,” came Janet’s answer. “Please have Blanche hunt in my closet and find my own pair, and send them down to me by messenger at once, Duncan.” “I’ll attend to it,” he promised. “Wait, Janet. Did you draw out some money for father?” “Yes, a hundred and fifty dollars. Marjorie said she gave it to you. What did you say, Duncan?” “Nothing. I’ll send the skates. Good-bye,” and he banged up the receiver. But it was some minutes before he moved, and when he rose there were lines about his mouth which had not been there before. He pushed the electric bell, and on Perkins’ entrance, gave him full instructions regarding the skates. As the butler left the room, Calderon Fordyce appeared. “All alone, Duncan?” he asked. “Where’s Janet?” “Down skating on the Potomac.” “Deuce take the girl! What does she mean by gadding about? I told her to return here at once with my money. I promised to advance Perkins’ wages, and----” “Janet left it with me,” Duncan stepped forward and handed his father the roll of bills. “Here it is.” “Thanks, Duncan,” Fordyce took out his leather wallet and stuffed the bank notes inside it. “Hold on,” cautioned Duncan. “Hadn’t you better count your money?” Fordyce eyed his son in astonishment. “What are you driving at?” he demanded brusquely. “I’m not in the habit of questioning anything you and Janet give me.” “Some of that money is missing,” stated Duncan. “What?” Fordyce’s smile vanished, and his eyes darkened. “I borrowed forty dollars,” added Duncan tranquilly. “Here’s my check for the amount,” taking it up from the table. “I needed the ready money, so”--smiling whimsically, “helped myself.” CHAPTER IX GAY DECEIVERS MRS. CALHOUN-COOPER contemplated her daughter with distinct admiration, albeit mixed with some alarm. “My dear Pauline,” she said, lowering her lorgnette. “I have seldom seen you look so well, but--eh--don’t you think your gown is a trifle too--too pronounced?” “Of course it isn’t.” Pauline revolved slowly, the better to show the expensive Paquin model which she was wearing. “Nothing is extreme these days; I mean everything is extreme.” “Hello, why the beauty show?” demanded Joe from the doorway of the library.