"No, we're to be married at my house, 5678 Lexington Avenue."
"All right. Where is Mr. Farralon's office?"
"Eighteen West Thirty-second Street. He's the American agent for a Belgian rubber firm, you know, and has only a small place for a headquarters."
"He's a college man, I suppose?"
"Yes, Stapleton University, '04."
"Who is to be his best man?"
"Why, Mr. Stringer, a classmate of his. He's a lawyer; a patent lawyer, I think. I've told him about Edward's disappearance, and he's promised to find him to-day; but I thought—"
"You'd make sure?" Astro smiled as he rose. "Mr. Stringer knew nothing, I suppose? Did he offer to come and see you about it?"
"Yes; said he'd be up this afternoon."
"Very well. Let me know if he's found out anything. Meanwhile, be ready to do anything I request. I'll consult my crystal ball immediately. Valeska!" he called, raising his voice. "Show Miss Wister out, please."
His guest had no sooner left than Astro took up the telephone. He called for Edward Masson, a man whose friendship he had won at the time of the solution of the famous Denton boudoir murder mystery. Of the conversation that ensued, Valeska, returning to the palmist's studio, heard only one side.
"Is this Mr. Masson? . . . You're a Stapleton University man, aren't you, Masson? . . . Were there any local secret fraternities there along from 1901 to 1904? . . . What was the name of it? . . .
