around so carelessly. As you say, Norah, he left in a hurry.”

“But how did he leave?”

“That’s the mystery; and I, for one, give it up. I’m quite willing to wait until some greater brain than mine works out the problem.”

“But it’s incomprehensible,” Norah went on; “where’s Jenny?”

“For that matter,” I countered, “where’s Mr. Gately? Where’s his angry visitor, male or female? and, finally, where’s the pistol that made the sound and smoke of which I had positive evidence?”

“We may find that,” suggested Norah, hopefully.

But careful search failed to discover any firearms, as it had failed to reveal the actors of the drama.

Nor did the representative from the bank come up at once. This seemed queer, I thought, and with a sudden impulse to find out something, I declared I was going down to the bank myself.

“Go on,” said Norah, “I’ll stay here, for I must know what they find out when they do come.”

I went out into the hall and pushed the “Down” button of the elevator.

“Be careful,” Norah warned me, as the car was heard ascending, “say very little, Mr. Brice, except to the proper authorities. This may be a terrible thing, and you mustn’t get mixed up in it until you know more about it. You were not only the first to discover the disappearance,—but you and I are apparently the only ones in this corridor who know of it yet, we may be——”

“Suspected of the abduction of Amos Gately! Hardly! Don’t let your detective instinct run away with you Norah!”

And then the elevator door slid open and I got into the car.

CHAPTER II Jenny’s Version

CHAPTER II

The elevators in the building were run by girls, and the one I entered was in charge of Minny Boyd, a sister of Jenny, who was in Mr. Gately’s office.

As soon as I stepped into the car I saw that Minny was in a state of excitement.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, sympathetically.

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