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 her. There's too much goody-goody talk to suit me. It was 'Yes, dear Miss Dalrymple,' and 'Oh, certainly, Miss Dalrymple,' and, behind her back, 'Isn't Miss Dalrymple the sweetest thing!' When I hear that kind of talk, I look out for a cat."

"You think she's two-faced?"

"Oh, she's a snake in the grass! Tall, lantern-jawed, skinny, smirking thing! As luck would have it, she caught the same train back to town that I did, or rather she came down on the trolley-car just behind mine, and I sat about three seats behind her when we got the subway at Kingsbridge. I thought I'd see where she went. It was an express, and she got off at Brooklyn Bridge. That's what kept me so long. I followed her over to Brooklyn."

Astro started. "Brooklyn?" he ejaculated.

"Yes." Valeska was evidently pleased that at last she had made some sort of sensation. "I shadowed her to number 1435 Fulton Avenue, waited half an hour, and, when she didn't come out, hurried back to report."

"Well," Astro spoke with a curious expression, "did you find out who lives there?"

The girl was crestfallen. "No. I entirely forgot that."

He threw it at her pointblank. "Mrs. Myra Dalrymple!"

For a moment she could only gaze at him in astonishment. Then, "Oh!" she cried. "Oh!" Her eyes blazed. "Didn't I say she was a snake? Why, then, Fanny is undoubtedly in the pay of the second wife! Think of it! She's been spying on that sweet innocent girl ever since her mother died, and has carried the