I had learned that Fibsy, or Terence, as we ought to call him, was trying to discard his street slang, and was succeeding fairly well, save in moments of great excitement or importance. And so, I hoped from his slangy beginning, that he had found some fresh data. "I chased up that chore boy first," he related, "an' he didn't know anything at all. Said Miss Van Allen's a lovely lady, but he 'most never saw her, the Julie dame did all the orderin' an' payin' s'far's he was concerned. Good pay, but irregular work. She'd be here a day or two, an' then like's not go 'way for a week. Well, we knew that before. Then, next, I tracked to his lair the furnace man. Same story. Here to-day an' gone to-morrer, as the song says. 'Course, he ain't only a stoker, he's really an odd job man--ashes, sidewalks, an' such. Well, he didn't help none--any, I mean. But," and the shock of red hair seemed to bristle with triumph, "I loined one thing! That Julie has been to the sewing woman and the laundress lady and shut 'em up! Yes, sir! that's what she's done!" "Tell it all," said Stone, briefly. "Well, I struck the seamstress first. She wouldn't tell a thing, and I said, calmly, 'I know Julie paid you to keep your mouth shut, but if you don't tell, the law'll make you!' That scared her, and she owned up that Julie was to see her 'bout a week ago and give her fifty dollars not to tell anything at all whatsomever about Miss Van Allen! Some girl, that Vicky Van!" "Julie went there herself!" I cried. "Yep. The real Julie, gold teeth and all. But I quizzed the needle pusher good and plenty, and she don't know much of evidential value." It was always funny when Fibsy interlarded his talk with legal phrases, but he was unconscious of any incongruity and went on: "You see, as I dope it out, she's accustomed to sit in Miss Van Allen's boodore a-sewin' an' might have overheard some gossip or sumpum like that, an' Miss Van Allen was afraid she'd scatter it, an' so she sent Julie to shut her up. I don't believe the woman knows where Miss Van is now." "I must see her," said Stone. "Yes, sir. She won't get away. She's a regular citizen, an' respectable at that. Well, then, the laundress. To her also Julie had likewise went. An' to her also Julie had passed the spondulicks. Now, I don't understand that so well, for laundresses don't overhear the ladies talkin', but, anyway, Julie told her if she wouldn't answer a question to anybody, she'd give her half a century, too. And did." "Doubtless the laundress knew something Miss Van Allen wants kept secret." "Doubtless, sir," said Fibsy, gravely. "But I don't believe," mused Stone, "that it would help us any to learn all those women know. If Miss Van Allen thought they could help us find her, she would give them more than that for silence or get them out of the city altogether." "Where is Miss Van Allen, Mr. Stone?" Fibsy asked the question casually, as one expectant of an answer.