house to-night, after the theater, and brought directly here. I told the officer it was a mistake."
Poor Hotchkiss tried bravely to justify the fiasco.
"You can not deny," he contended, "that Mr. Andrew Bronson followed you to your rooms last Monday evening."
Stuart looked at us and flushed.
"No, I don't deny it," he said, "but there was nothing criminal about it, on my part, at least. Mr. Bronson has been trying to induce me to secure the forged notes for him. But I did not even know where they were."
"And you were not on the wrecked Washington Flier?" persisted Hotchkiss. But McKnight interfered.
"There is no use trying to put the other man's identity on Stuart, Mr. Hotchkiss," he protested. "He has been our confidential clerk for six years, and has not been away from the office a day for a year. I am afraid that the beautiful fabric we have pieced out of all these scraps is going to be a crazy quilt." His tone was face-
