To say that Dorothy enjoyed her afternoon’s shopping would be putting it mildly. Give any girl plenty of money and tell her to go out and buy an entire trousseau for herself—or even for somebody else—and watch her jump at the chance!

Howard trailed along in more or less of a daze. This sudden change in his outlook; being drawn from the depths of despondency to the hope of a future with the girl he loved, and all in the space of a couple of hours, was a little too much for him to realize at once. Ever after, he had but a hazy recollection of that shopping tour. The afternoon seemed but a whirling maze of lingerie, stockings, street dresses, party frocks, coats, hats, shoes and accessories, upon which his advice was invariably asked, and never taken.

They were bowling hotelwards in a taxi, jammed with cardboard boxes and packages of various shapes and sizes, before he returned to normal.

“Whew!” he looked at Dorothy. “I should think you’d be dead!”

She shook her head and laughed. “No girl ever gets tired of shopping,” she told him gaily. “Wait till you’re married—you’ll find out.”

“But what’s the idea of bringing all these things back with us? I thought Mr. Sanborn said to have them sent.”

“He did—but I have a better idea. This is part of it. I’ll tell you all about it when we get to the hotel. Keep still now—I want to go over the lists and see if I’ve forgotten anything!”

Howard sighed in resignation.

At the hotel desk they learned that Ashton Sanborn had not returned as yet, but had left word that they should go to his rooms. With the assistance of three bellboys, they piled themselves and their packages into the elevator.

“Gee! This looks like the night before Christmas!” Howard dropped his hat and overcoat and stared at the boxes and bundles piled along the wall of the sitting room. “Janet certainly will be surprised when she sees all those things!”

Dorothy pulled off her close-fitting little hat, and tossed it with her purse and coat onto the table. Then she sank into an easy-chair. “Well, I only hope she’ll approve. My, this was a strenuous afternoon. You’d better sit down.”

Howard followed her advice. “You said it. But I know Janet—she’ll be crazy about the things you’ve bought.”

“Oh, you boys are all alike.” Dorothy yawned unashamedly.

“I don’t get you.”

“What I mean is that as soon as a fellow goes round with a girl for a while, he invariably says ‘Oh yes, she’ll like this,’ or, ‘she won’t like that’.”

“And—?”

“Ninety-nine times out of a hundred you guess wrong.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s because girls like to do their own choosing. Especially when it comes to buying clothes. Well, anyway, I think the things are darling, and they’ll be becoming, too. At least they look well on me.”

“Don’t worry—those clothes will make her look like a million dollars.”

“I know they will. I’m tired, I guess.” Dorothy yawned again and closed her eyes.

Howard started to say something, thought better of it, yawned, and let his head pillow itself on the soft upholstery.

Three quarters of an hour later, Ashton Sanborn and Bill Bolton marched into the room to find the two shoppers sound asleep in their respective chairs. The detective coughed discreetly and both the young people awoke.

“I see that you’ve brought your spoils back with you,” he smiled, pointing to the boxes and bundles. Dorothy stared at him, only half awake, then sat upright in her chair as she realized where she was.

“Looks to me,” said Bill, getting out of his overcoat, “as if she thought Janet was going to start a shop of her own. Why did you cart all the stuff back here instead of having it sent?”

“Because, Mr. Inquisitive—well, just because. You and Howard run along now and prepare your handsome selves for dinner. The principles of this piece are going into conference now.”

“My word—” began Bill, but at a shake of the head from Sanborn, he took the still drowsy Howard by the arm and together they disappeared into the bedroom.

“Pretty tough time you’ve had, I expect?” Mr. Sanborn’s eyes twinkled, though his tone was grave.

“Oh, but it was lots of fun,” cried Dorothy. “Thanks to Uncle Sam, and Uncle Sanborn! And look here, I’ve got a great idea.”

“Which has to do with your bringing back the packages yourself?”

“Quite right, it has. Do you think those boys can hear what we’re saying?”

“I doubt it, Dorothy—but Bill, as you probably guessed at the end of the affair of the Winged Cartwheels, is a full-fledged member of my organization and—”

“Oh, I don’t mind Bill,” she interrupted in a low tone. “But Howard mustn’t get wind of it. He might make a fuss.”

She rose from her chair and going over to the detective, began to whisper in his ear.

“But that’s impossible, Dorothy!” he protested, although he allowed a smile to come to his eyes. “And what’s more, my dear, I’m afraid it would be illegal.”

“Oh, no, it wouldn’t! Not if you—” And again she brought her lips close to his ear.

“You’re a young scamp!” he laughed as she ended. “But—well—you’re doing a great deal for me, so—”

“So you’ll go downstairs and start telephoning right away!” she prompted eagerly.

Ashton Sanborn held up his hands in mock despair. “Nieces,” he declared, “should not badger hard-working old uncles. But since this niece has been a good girl today, Uncle will do as he’s asked.”

“I shall never call you anything else but Uncle Sanborn, now,” Dorothy cried delightedly.

“Thanks, my child, and I’ll do my best for you.”

“Angel uncles can do no more,” she laughed.

“Right-o. I’ll be on my way, then. Come along in about fifteen minutes with Bill and Howard. I’ll arrange for a table for dinner and meet you three in Peacock Alley.” The detective caught up his hat and hurried out of the room.

Although Mr. Sanborn was a perfect host, and did all he could to make that dinner entertaining, he confessed later that he would always consider it one of the few failures of an otherwise unblemished career.

Notwithstanding the delicious food, the charm and beauty of the huge room with its lights and music and scores of well-dressed men and beautifully gowned women, the dinner was not a success. All three of the young people were too excited by thoughts of what would happen later to do justice to the meal. Dorothy, moreover, had the added annoyance of feeling that her tailored frock, smart enough for luncheon or shopping, was definitely not the thing to wear at dinner in a fashionable hotel. Each endeavored to be sprightly and at ease. But since they knew that the one thing they wanted to talk about was forbidden in public, conversation flagged. Upstairs at last in Mr. Sanborn’s sitting room, he came directly to the point.

“Now I know you’re just rearing to go,” he said. “And perhaps the sooner we get under way, the better.” He turned to Bill. “You go ahead with Howard,” he ordered. “Dorothy and I will follow you in about ten minutes. Go straight to the apartment. We’ll meet you there.”

“O and likewise K, boss,” Bill returned. “Get into your rubbers, Howard. And don’t look so gloomy. You’re on your way to meet your best girl, remember.”

When they had gone, Dorothy turned at once to the detective. “How about it, Uncle Sanborn?” she asked eagerly.

“To quote Bill, ‘O and likewise K,’ niece.”

“Gee, you are a dear!” Dorothy clapped her hands. “And now that that is that—I don’t care what happens.”

“But I do, Dorothy.” Ashton Sanborn was serious. “Listen to me, young lady. From now on you’re working for the U. S. government, under me, and I must have my orders obeyed to the letter.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.” Dorothy’s tone was crisp and business-like.

“Good. I let those chaps go ahead of us as there is no need of having us all arrive at that apartment house at the same time. This afternoon, Bill and I made all arrangements, so that you can change places with your cousin shortly after you arrive.”

Dorothy felt secretly proud that this keen-eyed secret service man took her at her word, and did not ask her again if she were really willing to go through with it. “May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, suppose that after you manage to get me into Janet’s room, she refuses to leave it. Do you want me to force her?”

“Heavens, no.” Sanborn laughed. “That has all been taken care of, Dorothy. I talked to your cousin by means of Howard’s headphone set shortly after dark this afternoon. I explained the whole thing to her and when she understood that her father would be brought into no extra danger because of our plan, and that I had drafted you into becoming a secret service operative, she consented.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Dorothy fervently. “She could easily have misunderstood and spoiled everything.”

“Well, we’ll have a lot to do to put it over, even though Janet is willing. I persuaded her that by doing exactly what you told her, once you arrived, she would be serving her country like a loyal American. You, of course, will use your own judgment, when you see her. The principal thing is to change clothes and get her out the way you came just as soon as possible.”

“But how am I to get into the Jordans’ apartment?”

“Good soldiers, Dorothy, do not ask questions. There’s no secret about it, but I’ve other things to tell you now. Lawson will probably come for you—or for Janet, as he will believe you to be. He is a tall, slender man, about thirty, rather good-looking, dark curly hair and a small mustache. Your Uncle Michael, if you should run into him, is heavy set and rather short. He has reddish hair, turning grey, and is clean shaven. Janet has never met either Doctor Winn, or Mrs. Lawson. Now just a word about the lady. She is a very beautiful and a very clever woman. Be on your guard with her, continually. I believe that the principal reason that you, or rather, Janet Jordan, will be taken to Ridgefield, is so that you may be studied at first hand by this woman. There is no need for me to tell you to keep up the Janet personality day and night. Incidentally, you will have only a very short time to study your cousin, so make the most of it. Well,” he concluded, “I guess that’s about all. You will receive further orders within the next day or two. In the meantime, simply carry on as Janet Jordan. I am taking a great responsibility in letting you go, my dear. For I won’t hide the fact that you’d probably be safer in a den of rattlesnakes than in the same house with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson.”

“I’m not afraid, you know,” said Dorothy simply and smiled up at him.

“I know you’re not. But it would really be better if you were. For then you’d be much more careful, and you must watch your step every minute until I get you out of it. Here’s your coat. Slip into it and we’ll get going. The sooner I get you safely into Janet’s room, and that young lady out of it, the easier will your Uncle Sanborn feel.”