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"By the way, there's a note there on the table for you. I found it when I came in."
"For me?" asked Miles, wonderingly.
"Well, it's addressed to you. But maybe it's meant for me; maybe the lady was too shy to write to me direct."
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Miles bore the note to the window
and studied it with smiling eyes. The
square white envelope with the green
maple-tree in the corner told its own
story. "Mr. Fallon," was the inscription,
and he viewed it delightedly;
he had never seen his name
look just like that before! And how
beautiful the tall, scrawly writing
was! Then he carefully slit the envelope
and drew forth the single sheet
it contained.
Presently Hunter, having leaned his
