The Washington times., 1923-06-15

the American customs at Montreal.
A woman answering the descrip-
ton had been seen alighting from
q New York sleeper at Windsor
Station. A "news-butcher'' had
pointed her out to an idle porter
as being ''some queen" She wore
a heavy veil and she was travel
ing alone. The porter had helped
her with her bags, two OF them.
But she had no other luggage.
That was as much as either Cody
or Chamberlain, the chief of the
Canadian Pacific Criminal Investi-
cation department, had been able
to find out. But the wire was
enough to tRke Kestner to Canada
by the next train.
There the hunt began over
again. The porter in time was
found, but he had no knowledge
of what hotel the queen" in
question had gone to. He had
merely helped her to a cab.
Then followed a round of the
cab drivers. On the third day a
chauffeur was found who vaguely
remembered such a woman. He
had driven her to an English
pension known as Beaver Hall
Chambers, on Beaver Hall Hill.
1t did not take Kestner long to
authenticate this. But the lady,
who called herself Miss Farr, had
left Beaver Hall Chambers weeks
before. She had paid a full
weeks rent, yet she had stayed
only three days. The one hint
worth while was that given by
chamber maid. who remembered
the lady telephoning about paint
ing, on ivory.
Kestner promptly looked up
every miniature painter in the
city. He eventually unearthed
the artist to whom Miss Farr had
applied for work. She had painted
for q week in this Philips square
studio, and had proved herself
clever enough. But she had met
Devonshire woman, an Invalid,
on her way to Banff, and had
caught at the chance Of going
West, as companion. So Kest-
ner went on to Banff.
She had been in Banff for
weeks. There was no doubt of
that. The little mountain town
was full Of Impressions Of her.
She and the eccentric-ninded
English patient had lived much
in the open air, had ridden and
fished and golfed and had once
motored down to Calgary. She
had also been seen sketching at
Devils Lake. and a local hotel
had even bought q couple of her
water colors.
BY this time Kestner knew the
trail was genuine.
He followed that trail up to
Victoria. There Maura Lambert
and her patient had parted COM
pany; the invalid being joined by
her son and going on to Japan,
the companion for some unknown
reason striking eastward again as
far as Winnipeg. From Winnipeg
she had gone to Chicago. There,
Kestner found, she had engaged
to accompany two girl students to
Paris, sailing from Boston on
ten-day steamer. Then Paris, for
causes that could not be ascer-
tatned. had become suddenly un-
desirable to her, She had moved
on to Munich. And at Munich
= the trail ended.
kestner sat absently contem-
plating his atlas. Then he stared
as absently out over the roofs
and gardens and hills Of Rome.
Then he suddenly wheeled about
in his chair, his trained ear ad-
Vising him that some one was
opening the door Of his hotel
room.
The next moment his heart was
in his mouth, for he saw q young
woman step quickly inside and as
quickly close the door behind her.
For one brief second he thought
it was Maura Lambert herself.
But that foolish flutter of hope
did not survive his quick stare of
inquiry.
He found himself confronted by
a figure more pertly audacious,
more casually intimate, than that
of Lambert's one-time etcher on
steel.
They regarded each other for a
silent moment or two. Then the
girl spoke.
Some time since we met" she
tentatively chirped.
Kestner studied her. It was
Sadie Wimpel respondent in
Vernal raiment. raiment plainly
from the rue de Ia Paix.
Yes, It's some time" he
agreed, not without q touch of
bitterness, remembering the past.
You've quit the service" she
continued