"Bunk!" sneered Green. "Reporters, most likely, tryin’ to get next to your plans. See here," he added, dropping his feet to the floor and shifting his chair to face Forrester, "I bet there’s so many o’ them reporter guys around that tree tonight that the ’Friends o’ the Poor’ can’t get near it!" "And that notice—unaccountably slipped into my cigar humidor while I sat in the library. How do you place that?" "_That’s_ the only _real_ thing that happened," maintained Green. "But it ain’t any way mysterious, though they tried to scare you into thinkin’ it was. Them guys just crawled through a window while you was out to dinner. It was there all the evenin’—only you didn’t happen to want a cigar till late, that’s all. Did you find any open or unlocked windows?" "Not on the first floor. I discovered a second floor window open after hearing a door slam." "Any floor would suit them guys," asserted Green. "Take it from me, Mr. Forrester; you and me’s nearer the solution o’ this thing than them city bulls. We’re right on the ground _now_, and we’re goin’ to locate somethin’. Let them detective guys play around with their _Italians_. They’ll never get ’em near that tree—never on your life!" ———— The library at "Woodmere" faced the terrace, upon which a row of French windows opened. Forrester sat by the big center table that evening, idly turning the pages of a book. Heavy footsteps clattered along the terrace, and a moment later Green entered at one of the windows. "I was waiting for you," Forrester greeted him, rising as he spoke. "My mother and sister have just left. Now, one last word of instruction, Green. You’re to stick close to the windows of the drawing room over there at the Prentices’. After dinner I will walk to one of the windows with Miss Sturtevant. Take a good look at her. While I’m away try and keep an eye on her. If she slips out, trail her! That’s your job for tonight." "Count on me," assured Green. "Is that the money?" he asked, indicating a long flat package on the table. "That’s the package I’m going to put in the tree." Green picked up the package and weighed it in his hand while his eyes sparkled. "Gee!" he exclaimed. "Twenty-five thousand bucks!" "No," laughed Forrester, "only a few ounces of paper!" "Goin’ to fool ’em, eh?" grinned the detective. "That’s what I hope to do. I made a very open and noisy visit to my bank this morning, and remained for some time in the president’s private office. The idea was to give anyone who might be watching the impression that I was drawing the money from the bank. What actually happened, however, was that I explained my plans to the president, and he instructed a clerk to make up this dummy package." Forrester took the package from Green and slipped it into an inner pocket. "Come," he said, and led the way out to his car. ————