Every three or four steps they took, a small piece of paper fluttered from Mr. Mountain’s hand. It was thus Nick could ascertain that the Thirtieth Street house was their destination. Everything moved precisely as it had the day before. The young man showed Mr. Mountain into the parlor and disappeared to call the person Mr. Mountain had come to see. There was a wait for some time, and then the Brown Robin swept into the room. “I am very glad to renew your acquaintance, Mr. Mountain,” said the Brown Robin. Mr. Mountain fairly staggered in his surprise. “Why! Why!” he exclaimed. “Alberta Curtis!” “The same,” said the Brown Robin. “Although I have had many experiences since I was your typewriter, my name has remained the same through it all.” “Then it was you, after all, that stole the confession,” blurted out Mr. Mountain. “Stole is an ugly word, my dear old employer,” said the Brown Robin. “Be more polite. Say I confiscated it when I found it among loose papers.” Mr. Mountain, though he had suspected this, yet, when he learned that it was so, seemed amazed and stupefied. But the Brown Robin soon brought him to his senses by asking if he had come to do business. In her dealings with Mr. Mountain, there was none of the coquetry she had displayed with Mr. Cary. Thus aroused, Mr. Mountain said: “Your terms are outrageous!” “Let us be plain and brief, Mr. Mountain. You have become a very rich man. Fifty thousand dollars will not even embarrass you. I have informed myself exactly as to your financial condition. “You can afford to pay that to preserve your good name and your reputation. “Now, read this.” She took from her pocket a typewritten roll of paper, and extended it to Mr. Mountain. “You will see that it is a carefully-prepared newspaper article, which embraces your confession. “If you refuse to pay what I believe is the value of that confession, in your handwriting, to you, that will be published.” Mr. Mountain read it over, and saw with what skill it was prepared, and how eagerly a paper would seize on it. “You would not have the cruelty to do that?” “You are mistaken,” said the Brown Robin, coldly. “I would have and will do what I say I will. Make not the least mistake about that.” “But you will do it for less?” “Fifty thousand or nothing.” This was said with the utmost firmness. Then she added: “But why shuffle? The very fact you are here shows that you are here to comply.” “I am to have the original confession for that payment?” “Yes.” “Must I trust to your honor to get it?” “Show me the money and I will show you the document.” “Very well.” “Understand,” said the Brown Robin. “I am well guarded. I can defend myself with this.” She displayed a revolver. “I stand on a push-button,” she went on, “and the slightest pressure will summon to my aid, if you attempt any tricks, those who will defend me.” “Very good!”