was modulated to the correct society pitch. "Such a thing as—as this is—well, I am not used to it."
"Just take your time, and tell me in your own way," said the sheriff. "You have—er—some sort of a complaint to make?"
"Yes, that is it. In the first place, we do not reside in this city regularly. We have a suite at a private hotel—my mother, my brother and myself. It is about my brother that I wish to see you."
"He is—er—in trouble?"
"Not exactly that, but—please tell me, first, Mr. Kowen, it is against the law to operate a gambling house, is it not?"
"It most certainly is!" Kowen exclaimed. "When I was first elected, I fought gambling houses—got quite a reputation for working along that line. I fought the cheap ones, and I fought the pretentious dress-suit establishments—cleaned them out!"
"Pardon me, Mr. Kowen, but one remains—else it is a new one that has opened recently."
"What's that?" the sheriff cried, sitting up straighter in his chair. "If there is a gambling house running in my section of the country, it'll not run long!"
"I—I feel almost like a spy," Miss Blanchard said. "I hate to be an informer"
"That is your duty in such a case, my dear young lady."
"I feel it so, under the circumstances," she said. "I do not want to cause my brother trouble—but I have talked it over with mother, and we decided that I should come and tell you the whole thing."
"I shall be glad to listen, Miss Blanchard."
"My brother is twenty-one, just a boy, you might
