“I must go to Cary’s club and quiet him for the night. He is nearly in a collapse. How about Mountain, Chick?” “I saw him. He is game, chief. Nothing came for him from the Brown Robin up to the time of his leaving his office. He will not yield. He is going to the theatre to-night.” “Do you know where?” “Yes; at the Empire.” “Ah, ha! Be in the neighborhood, boys, and keep him under watch if you can. He is quite as likely to get his notice there as anywhere.” Nick went home satisfied that if there was any movement made that night, it would be only in the way he indicated. “A lady is waiting to see you in the parlor, Nick,” said Edith, as he entered. “Who is it?” “She would give no name,” replied Edith. “She is young, pretty, and has asked me a lot of questions about you.” “Of course you gave me a good character,” laughed Nick. “I told the truth about you, and you can guess what it was, for I won’t tell you,” laughed Edith, in reply. “But hurry and get rid of her, for I want you to go out a ways with me.” Nick went to the parlor. No man ever had a greater control of his features than the famous detective. He always maintained his self-control under the most trying circumstances. He had more than once looked certain death in the face without blinking. But he had as narrow an escape from betraying himself as he ever met with, when, on opening the parlor door, he saw the Brown Robin occupying one of his sofas. The shock was momentary and not observed by the other. Nick crossed the room, bowing before his visitor, gravely, and said: “I am Mr. Carter, madam.” The Brown Robin arose from her seat and looked most keenly and curiously into his face. Nick would have been dull indeed, if he had not also seen the look of admiration that grew on the face of his visitor. But it did not affect him. Indeed he was just then striving to guess what the game of the Brown Robin was in seeking him at his own home. “I should be much pleased, Mr. Carter,” said the Brown Robin, “if you would listen to what I have to say and give me your advice.” “I certainly will listen to you,” replied Nick, “but as to the advice I cannot tell yet. But, be seated and begin.” The Brown Robin sat down, and, taking from her pocket a letter, she said: “If you will read that it will be a good beginning.” She handed it to him, and at a glance Nick saw that it was one of the kind with which now he was familiar. He read it: “Mrs. Ansel: I have named my figures. I have only this to say further: If the money is not at the place to be mentioned, and at the time, your letters will be in the hands of your husband in the evening. “The Brown Robin.” Nick handed the letter back and waited for the Brown Robin to speak. Apparently she was much embarrassed, and Nick, studying her, thought she was an admirable actress. Finally she burst out: