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Twenty-eight The BRONZEMAN Her Own Daughter (continued from page 27) evidently overjoyed with what the man had told her. After Pearl dialed a number Dane heard the same loud squeaky voice of the woman who had just phoned. Pearl shot a glance at Dane, then told the party on the end of the link to wait a moment. Quickly, she tore the top sheet from the pad on which she had written and stepped into the closet, closing the door after her. Dane strained her ears, but could hear nothing. Pearl came out of the closet more excited than before. Dane went about her work in silence. How could she possibly know what Pearl was up to? Hadn't Pearl torn off the sheet, on which she had written something very important, from the small pad on the table? Then an idea dawned on Dane; she remembered that Pearl had written extremely heavy. Surely the imprint of what she had written was still on the pad. But how could Dane get the pad without arousing Pearl's suspicions? She had it! Send Pearl from the room for a glass of water. Having no time to tear off the sheet of paper with the imprint on it, Dane grabbed the entire pad and placed it carefully face up in the bottom of her square suitcase, as soon as Pearl left the room. Then, taking pains not to let anything touch the pad, she placed her scissors, threat, etc., beside it. Late that night in the privacy of her own room, Dane traced over the imprint on the pad. It revealed the name of a local hotel, not one of the exclusive hotels; but one where "things could be done." In smaller writing was the address, room number, and "Wednesday at eight." Dane lost no time in going to the hotel where, to her surprise, she learned that an old friend of her Aunt Stella's was the manager. It didn't take long for her to convince this man, Mr. Edwards, that he should let her pretend she was working there for a couple of days as chambermaid. When he tried to force her to reveal her reason she begged him to trust her. By six o'clock the following morning, Wednesday, after telling Aunt Stella, her employer and Bertha that she was going away on business, Dane was established in a west side rooming house where she took the suitable things in which to disguise herself. Mr. Edwards hardly knew her as she winked and limped by him just before eight that same morning, with the long grey house dress on and extra large shoes. Very soon after her arrival, Dane learned that a Mr. Harry Hubbard lived in room 206 and had lived there for several years. Of course room 206 was what Dane was interested in, because that was the room number Pearl had written down. Harry Hubbard was a middle aged man, tall with long thing face. His lips went up then down in the corners which gave his face the expression of someone who was extremely tired. His eyes were large and they protruded a little too far from their sockets. He had sufficient money to live without working; in fact he was a retired contractor. Mr. Edwards whispered to Dane that Harry Hubbard's only weakness was pretty women. Harry Hubbard's rooms--sitting room, bath and bedroom--were indeed very simply furnished but comfortably. What caught Dane's eye and held it after carefully examining his rooms, was a door adjoining another room which was covered with a pair of very heavy velvet curtains. This door was locked with the key on Mr. Hubbard's side. It was in 208 that Dane wished to investigate. When she opened the door and was about to step into the hall she heard the same loud squeaky voice talking to the bell-boy just outside room 208. Quickly Dane closed the door and stood listening. The girl was telling the boy that the room was just fine. When the bell-boy left and Dane heard the door to 208 close she pressed her ear against the door and listened. Not a sound came from 208. Eight o'clock came and went. Still no sound in 208. Suddenly the phone rang in 208. Dane heard the squeaky voice say "yes" half a dozen times, heard her hang up the receiver, evidently get her wraps and quickly entered the room the squeaky voiced girl had so hurriedly left. An overnight grip and a wrinkled black dress were on the bed. No papers of any sort were visible. The dresser drawers were empty. Everything was left in readiness for a quick departure. Dane hurried to ask Mr. Edwards about this girl in 208. "Miss Smith from Cleveland. She was very tall and thing. Her face was very broad, eyes small, lips drawn together to a narrow slit! Terrible to look at," Mr. Edwards finished. The report came to Dane at seven o'clock that Miss Smith was in the lobby of the hotel. Dane waited to hear no more; but dashed upstairs, into room 208 and hid herself behind the big chair near the door adjoining Harry's room. In walked the tall, very thin girl, just after Dane drew a deep breath. Carelessly, Miss Smith threw her coat and hat across the bed. She went to the door between the rooms, tried the knob and smiled ever so little. "She is ugly," thought Dane, as she watched her through the space between the wall and the chair. A death like silence prevailed. Dane wondered if the girl couldn't hear her heavy breathing. Presently there was the sound of laughing. Someone was entering Harry's room. It was Pearl and Harry. Presently Pearl coughed twice, a distinctly forced cough. Miss Smith bounded to her feet. Pearl's cough was a signal. When Miss Smith reached the door she was trembling violently. Her hand shook as sh elooked at the shining hands of her watch. In room 206 Pearl was showering Harry with kisses. "Do you mean you really love me," he asked Pearl in a childish way. "Of course honey." She knew he was melting, "You're sweeter than sweet and I'm mad over you." She didn't mean she was mad over him, of course not--she was mad over that thousand dollars in fifties and tens he had on his person that very moment. He drew a deep breath as he watched her curl up on the bed. When Harry stepped into his sitting room Pearl dashed to the door and unlocked it; she carefully placed the big overstuffed chair before the door. "Right here is where he must put his coat," she said under her breath. "He's simply got to! What an old fish he is," she mumbled as Harry came back into the room. Presently something was thrown over the big chair by the door in Harry's room. A little more shuffling and all was quiet in 206. Miss Smith was ready to act. Dane tried to raise herself up to see what Miss Smith was reaching for. She did. Miss Smith's hand was on the doorknob. The door swung into the room, only the green velvet curtains were between them and the stillness in 206. Very slowly the tall girl parted the curtains, her hand slipped through the curtains and was searching around over the chair for Harry Hubbard's coat. "It can't be murder!" Dane dreaded the thought. Miss Smith was so busy reaching through the curtains she failed to see Dane creeping around the chair and behind her. Miss Smith's hand found the pocket in Harry Hubbard's coat containing the thousand dollars neatly wrapped. With it clutched in her trembling hands she closed the door, and turning, bumped into Dane a few steps back. "My God," she gasped. "You here?" "So this is what she was up to. Robbery!" Dane blurted out with passion. Then realizing the danger if Miss Smith and Pearl were caught she cried out: "Quick, give that to me--you get in bed. Then a chair