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 down. "Let me think it over again. I believe I've almost got it. Leave me alone here, and I'll do some deep-sea diving in the abysses of my memory, if you'll pardon the metaphor. You look over the papers while I grope in the recesses."

Valeska left and took up the file of morning papers. She was not gone long, having found something almost immediately that seemed important enough to warrant her interrupting the Master of Mysteries.

"What do you think?" she exclaimed, appearing between the velvet portières that screened the palmist's vast studio from the reception-room. "That house at number 1321 Preston Street has been raided by the police, at the instigation of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. They entered the place yesterday, and found a sort of treadmill where two dogs were working themselves almost to death, for no apparent reason whatever. There was a bed, a table, and chemical things in one of the rooms of the lower floor; but there was nothing up-stairs but the dogs, the treadmill, and a table that looked as if it had been used for dissection."

Astro had stood listening to every word. As Valeska spoke, his face cleared. A smile appeared on his lips. He threw off his crimson silk robe, tossed his turban into a corner, and on the instant appeared as the virile keen man of activity.

"I have it!" he exclaimed. "It is all over! District Attorney Tulliver will have no more mysterious attacks of fatigue! The boodling Brooklyn aldermen will be prosecuted from now on with all despatch!"

He went up to Valeska, and gently led her to a seat, laughing at the wonder in her eyes.