"I'm only obeying Mr. Stone's orders. And, take it from me, Mr. Calhoun, I ain't so fresh as to make remarks about a lady. I'm a prevaricator of the truth, but only when it's abserlutely necessary. And on the other hand, I'm a born protector of women. Why, I'd be only too tickled to find a gentleman suspect. Or, at least, to clear Miss Van Allen from all s'picion." "Why do you feel such a kindly interest in the lady?" "This house, for one reason. You see, I've been all over it, at Mr. Stone's orders, and I ree'lize what a nice lady she is. I don't have to see her, to understand her tastes and her 'complishments. Why, jest the books on her centre tables and the records for her phonograph spell her out for me, in words of one syllable. And, though I'm hunting for her, it isn't with a solid hunch that's she's the knife-sticker. Not by no means. But find her I've gotto! Because F. Stone says for me to." I looked at the boy more curiously. He was a strange admixture of street boy and sleuth. His quick, darting eyes were never still, but warily alert to catch the meaning of any sound or motion on my part. I felt as if he read me through, and would not have been surprised to have him tell me he knew of my recent communications with Vicky. But I only said, "You are, then, Mr. Stone's right-hand man?" "I put it that way, yes. But really, I'm his apprentice, and I'm learning his trade. I study his methods, and I add some gumption of my own, and if I can help him, I'm glad and happy. And anyway, I'm learning." "And this talk about your lying? Is that straight goods?" "If it is, how can you believe what I tell you?" he asked, whimsically. "But, I used to be a fierce liar. Then, gettin' in with F. Stone, made me see it's wrong to lie--usuerly, that is. So I don't, now--leastways, not much. Only when it's jest the only thing to do to save game." "How does Mr. Stone know when you're telling the truth, then?" "Good land, I don't lie to him! I wouldn't, and if I did, it wouldn't be any use. He'd see through me, quicker'n scat! But, honest, I wouldn't. You see, he's my idol, yes sir, my idol, that's what that man is! Well, Mr. Calhoun, as you've told me all you can pry loose from your stock of infermation, you an' me may as well make our adooses." "How do you know I haven't revealed all I know of the case?" "Oh, I read from your mobile counternance that you're keepin' sumpum back, but it don't matter. F. Stone'll nail it, when he gets good an' ready. What I wanted from you was mostly the speakin' likeness of the Julie dame. An' I guess I got it. Oh, say, one other thing. Who among Miss Van Allen's friends is an artist?" "Miss Gale is one. Miss Ariadne Gale." "Thank you, sir. And will you gimme her address?"