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"By the way, there's a note there on the table for you. I found it when I came in."

"For me?" asked Miles, wonderingly.

"Well, it's addressed to you. But maybe it's meant for me; maybe the lady was too shy to write to me direct."


Miles bore the note to the window and studied it with smiling eyes. The square white envelope with the green maple-tree in the corner told its own story. "Mr. Fallon," was the inscription, and he viewed it delightedly; he had never seen his name look just like that before! And how beautiful the tall, scrawly writing was! Then he carefully slit the envelope and drew forth the single sheet it contained.

Presently Hunter, having leaned his

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