Arthur B. Reeve

“ Braden was a heavy-set man with a debonnaire, dapper way about him. He wore a flower in his buttonhole, a smart touch which seemed very fetching, evidently, to the artistic Vera.
Constance fell to studying him, as she did all men and women. "His hands betray him," she said to herself, as she was introduced. ”

“ Stella Larue was crying into a lace handkerchief. "You—you are all—against me," she sobbed. "What have I done?"
"Nothing," soothed Constance, patting her shoulder. "As for Charmant and Drummond, they are tied by these proofs," she added, tapping the papers with the prints, then picking them up and handing them to Warrington. "I think if the story were told to the directors at the Prince Henry to-night with reporters waiting downstairs in the lobby, it might produce a quieting effect." ”

“ The little actress was plainly piqued. She saw, though she did not understand, that Constance was a different kind of plunger from what she had thought at first up at Charmant's. Instead of trying to compete with Constance in her field, she redoubled her efforts in her own. Was Warrington, a live spender, to slip through her grasp for a chance acquaintance?
Another dance. This time it was Stella and Warrington. Braden, who had served excellently as a foil to lead Warrington on when he had eyes for no one else, not even Vera, was left severely alone. ”

“ Vera will be along and Mr. Warrington and perhaps 'Diamond Jack' Braden—you know him?"
Constance confessed frankly that she did not have the pleasure of the acquaintance of the well-known turfman and first nighter.
She hesitated. Perhaps it was that that Stella liked. Almost any one else would have been overeager to accept. But to Constance, sure of herself now, nothing of the sort was worth scrambling for. Besides, she was wondering how a man with the fight of his life on his hands could find time to lunch downtown even with Stella. ”

“ Almost before she knew it, the little actress had placed her dainty white hand on the pad and then on the paper.
Constance did the same, to illustrate, then called Floretta. "If Vera will do as I have done," she said, offering her the pad, and taking her hand. Charmant complied, and when Floretta arrived her impressions were added to the others.
"There's a man wishes to see you, outside, Madame," said Floretta, wiping off the soiled finger tips. ”

“ Drummond was not employed by Mrs. Warrington at all. Then by whom? By the directors. And the rest of these people? Grafters who were using Stella to bait the hook. Braden had gone over to them, had aided in plunging Warrington into the wild life until he could no longer play the business game as before. Charmant was his confederate, Drummond his witness.
"Stella," said Constance, turning suddenly to the little actress, "Stella, they are using you, 'Diamond Jack' and Vera, using you to lead him on, playing the game of the minority of the directors of the Syndicate to get him out. ”

“ You always get in when it comes to trimming the good spenders, don't you?"
"Mr. Drummond," she replied, "I don't care to talk to you."
"You don't, hey? Well, perhaps, when the time comes you'll have to talk. How about that?"
She was thinking rapidly. Was Mrs. Warrington preparing to strike a blow that would be the last impulse necessary to send the plunger down for the last time? She decided to take a chance, to temporize until some one else made a move.
"I'd thank you to place your fingers on this pad," said Constance quietly. "I'm making a collection of these things." ”

“ You know, she comes here twice a week. We have to do some tall scheming to keep them apart. No, it's not vanity, either. It's—well—you see, she's trying to get him back, to look like a sport."
Constance thought of the hopeless fight so far which the little woman was waging to keep up with the dashing actress. Then she thought of Warrington, of last night, of how he had sought her, so ready, it seemed, to leave even the "other woman." Then Floretta's remark repeated itself mechanically. "We have to do some tall scheming to keep them apart." Was Stella here, after all? ”

“ The marks on this paper correspond precisely with those made here just now by—Vera Charmant herself!"
"You get out of here—quick," snarled Drummond, placing himself between the now furious Vera and Constance.
"One minute," replied Constance calmly. "I am sure Mr. Warrington is a gentleman, if you are not. Perhaps I have no finger prints to correspond with those on the bottle. If not, I am sure that we can send for some one whose prints will do so." ”

“ Bring it here carefully. I have a sheet of paper, also, which I am going to show you. I had already seen the little woman, Mr. Warrington, whom you have treated so unjustly. She was here trying vainly to win you back by those arts which she thinks must appeal to you."
Floretta returned with the bottle and placed it on the secretary beside Constance.
"Some one took some tablets from this bottle and gave them to some one else who wrote on this paper," she resumed, bending first over the paper she had torn from the pad. "Ah, a loop with twelve ridges, another loop, a whorl, a whorl, a loop. ”

“ Often, if the tip went wrong, the friend would return the money to the unsuspecting little girl, with some muttered apology about having been unable to get it placed in time, and then, as the market went down or up, seeing that it was too late, adding a congratulation that at least the principal was saved if there was no profit. ”

“ It's better that no one up here should suspect anything."
The voices ceased.
What did it mean! Constance rose and sauntered around into the next room. It was empty, but when she looked hastily up on the shelf there was a bottle of white tablets and on a table a pad of note paper from which a sheet had been torn.
She picked up the bottle gingerly. Who had touched it? Her mind was working quickly. Somewhere she had read of finger prints and the subject had interested her because the system had been introduced in banks and she saw that it was going to become more and more important. ”