ner, hoping to obtain an opening by more diplomatic methods presently.
In the meanwhile, the General was satisfying the curiosity of the Senator, and incidentally that of the Duke, as to the identification of the self-styled Mrs. Talmage Eglinton with the mysterious Clinton Ziegler. He described the tangle of doubt and surmise he had got into when he had convinced himself that the occupants of the neighboring suites at the hotel were both concerned in the plot against the bonds, without being able to carry the matter further. And especially did he lay stress on the deadlock that had been reached when “Mrs. Talmage Eglinton’s” artfully concocted anonymous warning against “Ziegler” had caused him to waver in his suspicions of her guilt.
“It took a woman to nose that out,” said the General, with a whimsical grimace. “Miss Sybil heard me grumbling—unfortunate habit, talking to one’s self—and put me right in a brace of shakes. ‘Why,’ she snaps out, after she’d pumped me about my difficulty, ‘they must be one and the same person. Mrs. Talmage Eglinton is Ziegler, and her intention is that after they’ve finished the business the Eg-
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