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From this it may be gathered that Harry Squires was a man who made the most out of a very ordinary situation.

* * * * *

Marshal Crow’s suggestion met with instant response. “On the other hand, Anderson, the lady may be as beautiful as the fabulous houri and as devilish as Delilah. I don’t want to take any steps in the matter without giving you your chance.” He spoke darkly.

Mr. Crow pricked up his ears. “What do you mean by that?”

“As a newspaper man, I am determined to clear up the mystery of the Veiled Lady. If you persist in sitting around twiddling your thumbs and looking like a primeval goat, I shall send to New York and engage a detective to work on the case exclusively for the Banner. The Banner is enterprising. We intend to give our subscribers the news, no matter what it costs. If you–“

The Marshal swallowed the bait, hook and all. He arose from his chair and faced Mr. Squires. “I’ll thank you, Harry Squires, to keep out of this. I didn’t mean to say a word about it to you or anybody else until I had gone a little further with my investigations, but now I’ve got to let the cat out of the bag. I’ve been working day and night on her case ever since she came to town. Never mind, Newt–don’t ask me. I’ll announce the result of my investigations at the proper time an’ not a minute sooner. Now I guess I’ll be moseyin’ along. It’s gettin’ purty late, an’ I’ve got a lot of work to do before midnight.”

He started down the steps. Harry Squires leaned back in his chair and scratched a match on the leg of his trousers. By the time he raised the lighted match to the bowl of his pipe, the smile had left his lips.

* * * * *

An uneventful week passed. The Veiled Lady made her daily excursions in the big high-powered car, pursued her now well-known domestic habits, retained her offensive aloofness, played games with the astounding Snooks, suffered no ill effects whatsoever from the inimical glares of the natives; and above all, she continued to set the fashions in Tinkletown.

They stopped short. A woman in a filmy white gown, cut extremely low in the neck, confronted them, an expression of alarm in her wide dark eyes. She was very beautiful. They had never seen any one so beautiful, so striking, or so startlingly dressed. She had just arisen from the comfortable wicker chair beside the table, the surface of which was littered with magazines, papers and documents in all sorts of disorder.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” she demanded, recovering her composure after the first instant of alarm.

Mr. Crow found his voice. “Surrender peaceable,” he said. “I’ve got you completely surrounded. Won’t do any good to resist. My men are everywhere. Your partner will be shot down if he–“

“Why, you–you old goose!” cried out the lady, and forthwith burst into a merry peal of laughter.

The Marshal stiffened.

“That kind of talk won’t–” he began, and then broke off to roar: “Quit your laughin’! You won’t be gigglin’ like that when you’re settin’ in the ‘lectric chair. Hustle inside there, men! Take her paramour, dead or alive!”

“Oh, what a stupendous situation!” cried the beautiful lady, her eyes dancing. “You really are a darling, Mr. Crow–a perfect, old dear. You–“

“None o’ that now–none o’ that!” Mr. Crow warned, taking a step backward. “Won’t do you any good to talk sweet to me. I’ve got the goods on you. A dozen witnesses have heard you plottin’ to murder. Throw up your hands! Up with ’em! Now, keep ’em up! An’ stop laughin’! You’ll soon find out you can’t murder a man in cold blood, even if he is a trespasser on your property. You can’t go around killin’–Say, where is Mrs. Smith? Where’s the lady of the house?”