"We all wish you success, I'm sure." Mr. Ma- gee searched his memory in vain for this "ac tress's" name and fame. Could it be possible, he wondered, at this late day, that any one would try for publicity by such an obvious worn-out road? Hardly. The answer was simple. Another fable was being spun from whole cloth beneath the roof of Baldpate Inn. "We have a New York paper here," he went on, "but as yet there seems to be no news of your sad disappearance."
"Wouldn't it be the limit if they didn't fall for it?" queried the older woman.
"Fall for it," repeated Professor Bolton, not questioningly, but with the air of a scientist about to add a new and rare specimen to his alcohol jar.
"She means, if they didn't accept my disappear ance as legitimate news," explained the girl. "That would be very disappointing. But surely there was no harm in making the experiment."
"They're a clever lot, those newspaper guys," sneered Mr. Bland, "in their own opinion. But when you come right down to it, every one of 'em has a nice little collection of gold bricks in his
