There was no depression in the spirits of Josie O’Gorman as she bade Mary Louise good-night at her bedroom door, and jumping up the stairs, two at a time, she entered her own room with a rush of energy.

With a quick twist of her wrist, she flooded the room with brightness. It was a large room, furnished simply with a few splendid old pieces of mahogany, but in some way, Josie in the few hours of her stay had managed to impart an air of activity and alertness to her apartment. A typewriter was installed on the low table at the front of the bed. The telephone had been connected with her room, and files of notes and time tables cluttered up the desk. Even the wonderful old four-posted bed had caught the contagion of hurry and was quite flustered beneath a shower of shirts, hats and dresses that had been tossed upon it.

To Josie the main intent and purpose of life was her work; orderliness and prettiness were considerations that had to follow after. Even as she entered the room the telephone was buzzing.

“Hello,” she called, seizing the receiver with one hand, pushing the odds and ends from the desk chair with the other.

“Yes, this is Josie O’Gorman. You say you haven’t found a trace of the car? Well, you needn’t have rung me up for that. I’d grasped that much already. Oh, you’ve found positively no strangers have left the neighborhood within the last forty-eight hours. That’s something to go on at any rate. Yes, thank you. Good-bye.”

As she hung up the receiver Josie’s face wore a puzzled frown.

“It’s a riot of a mess,” quoth she, unbuttoning with quick jerks her mannish-looking dress of dark blue linen. Then, having dropped it on the floor, she kicked it with well directed aim into the corner. Her remark could have been applied most aptly to her attire then, as it lay a forlorn and crumpled heap. Evidently her thoughts were far from those four walls. That any of her garments remained within reaching distance was not due to Josie’s care, for with little kicks one small pump lodged precariously on the window ledge, while its mate nestled more securely in the waste basket. But Josie was puzzling over a problem, and it was not coming out as clearly and as quickly as it might. These automobile robberies were discouraging matters to trace, when one realized how far one could drive a car in a few days and especially when such a clever crook as this forger, O’Hara, was at the wheel.

Josie jumped into her bright pink pajamas, finally produced her little bedroom slippers from her hat box, and covered herself with a warm bathrobe of most brilliant hue. This done, she turned a further glare of light upon the desk, pulled out a box of salty crackers and proceeded to sit there and eat and think.

To all appearances, however, the crackers vanished quicker than the problems and Josie’s head began to nod. Finally with a shrug she admitted, “I can’t make head nor tail out of the thing to-night. I’ll go to sleep and be a brighter detective in the morning.”

So saying, she turned out the light, made sure her little revolver was safely under her pillow, and without a thought of the night outside, she climbed into bed and was instantly asleep.

Josie O’Gorman’s slumbers were not undisturbed very long. For suddenly piercing even to her sleep-drugged ears came the quiet hum of a motor very near indeed. Instantly she was wide awake and reaching for her bathrobe.

Yes, there was the same sound only growing fainter. She rushed to the window but could see nothing whatever, the moon was completely covered by the clouds and the automobile had no lights. Josie placed the revolver in the pocket of her bathrobe and stole quickly from the room.

Her one idea was to waken Mary Louise immediately. Even as Josie entered Mary Louise’s room, she felt a sense of someone quite near and very much awake. There was no time to rouse her girl friend; she was perhaps safer sound asleep. Without turning the switch, Josie made her slow, careful way toward the open window. The scent of the lilies from the garden was blown to her as she neared the balcony, her little revolver held steady and ready for action.

Suddenly some pebbles from the path below were tossed again at the window pane. Josie drew back waiting. The tiny patter came again; and then as she still waited tensely, a man’s voice called “Mary Louise!”

Instantly all Josie’s faculties were alert. This man was undoubtedly O’Hara, the fugitive from justice. Perhaps he intended to frighten Mary Louise into hiding him about the premises; perhaps it was the combination of the safe he wished to extort from her. Whatever it was, she realized that she—Josie O’Gorman—daughter of John O’Gorman, expert detective, was there to save her friend.

There was no thought of fear in Josie’s heart, her brain was clear and her hand steady. She was living to the full this moment the life that she loved best to live.

She stepped cautiously behind the fluttering curtain of the window and reconnoitered. The moon had again struggled out from behind the clouds and, shining palely down upon the white of the balcony, had lit up with a weird glow the sun dial at the end of the garden path. The man who had called out, however, remained a dark shadow against the wistaria vine that clambered over the house. She could only distinguish that a man was there leaning against the wall, and from the faint gleam of white she knew he was facing toward the balcony.

As Josie remained hidden she saw the man bend again and, gathering some pebbles from the path, proceed to toss them against the pane. At the same time he called in a louder tone than before, “Mary Louise!”

With quick presence of mind Josie leaned slightly forward, keeping always in the deepest shadow, her finger on the trigger of her weapon.

Her words were whispered in order not to show the difference between her rather deep, full voice and the quiet, musical tones of Mary Louise.

The man evidently heard her question, “What do you want with me?” for he turned eagerly, though he remained standing where he was.

“This is Danny Dexter,” he said slowly and distinctly. “Don’t be frightened, Mary Louise, but I simply had to call you to the balcony. There is something I cannot leave without telling you.”

Josie made a quick mental note of his immediate departure and proceeded to extract further information by a whispered “Yes” of encouragement.

“I wanted to make you understand that although you would not want me here any longer, still I am absolutely innocent of any forgery I understand this Crocker is accusing me of. And, Mary Louise, your car is safe in the garage.”

Astounding facts indeed for Josie to digest! The man’s tone carried absolute conviction. She could not help the firm belief that this man was not the forger O’Hara. And what was this he said, the car was safe? Had he perhaps been searching for the thief himself?

Josie found her thoughts all in a turmoil. But one thing she did, impulsively and kindly. Clutching her blanket robe more vigorously about her and dropping the revolver in its pocket, she stepped out onto the balcony.

“I’m sorry I deceived you, Danny Dexter, and I believe just what you said,” she told him simply.

Then seeing the shadow of the man start in amazement, she added quickly: “You see, I’m Mary Louise’s friend, Josie O’Gorman, and I’m here to help find the car.”

Then Josie gave a hearty, tickled laugh. “And you just saved yourself from arrest and perhaps from being murdered,” she added, brandishing the weapon she produced from her pocket.

Danny Dexter perhaps appreciated the humor of it all more fully when the revolver was restored to its resting place. At any rate he withdrew into the shadow and quietly waited until Josie, taking pity on him, said:

“You wait down there a few moments, Danny Dexter, and I’ll wake Mary Louise and help her dress and send her out to you.”

“Thank you,” answered Danny, a slight quiver of anxiety in his voice, “but I must leave soon, and if I cannot wait to see her, will you tell her what you heard me say, and also say good-bye?”

“Of course I will!” said Josie O’Gorman, and then, turning, called briskly: “Mary Louise!”

There was no answer; her own breathing was all that she could hear. Frightened, she hurriedly ran across the room and turned on the electric switch. Her startled cry brought Danny in one leap across the balustrade, and together in a panic they gazed about the room. It was empty!