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184 "Smith?" In the stress of swift-moving events Odell had not thought of the plainclothesman whom he had detailed to watch the maneuvers of the temperamental elder daughter of the house. "What did he have to say?"

The chief grinned.

"She's a clever little girl, that Miss Cissie. Slipped out of the house yesterday morning about ten o'clock and went to the Fitz-Maurice Hotel. Smith was right behind her, and he heard her ask the girl at the telephone exchange for York 7087, which happens to be the number of Farley Drew's private wire. Smith got into the next booth and heard her end of the conversation. She kept insisting on seeing Drew, and she wasn't satisfied with the excuses she got; for she flounced out of the booth in a temper and taking a taxi at the hotel entrance drove straight to the Bellemonde Annex.

"At the desk there they told her the same story that Miller got from Sims the other night and that I guess she had just received herself over the telephone. Smith says that she was white with rage when she came out; but for all that she must have had her wits about her, for she saw and recognized him."

Captain Lewis paused with a chuckle, and the detective demanded:

"What did she do then?"

"Led him about the town by the nose! He says no old-timer could have pulled any cleverer stunts than she did to throw him off the track; changed cabs half a dozen times, dodged in and out of department stores and hotels, and zigzagged from one side of the city to the other, doubling on her own trail all the time. And where do you think she