Mr. Woodbridge turned back to his desk with the nod and smile of dismissal
to which Cyrus was accustomed. The boy went to his room, opening the
envelope as soon as he had closed the door. It was filled with smaller
envelopes, numbered in regular order. Infolding these was a typewritten
paper, which read as follows:--

"Go to the reading-room of the Westchester Library. There open envelope No.
1. Remember to hold all instructions secret. C.W., Jr."

Cyrus whistled. "That's funny! It means my date with Harold is off. Well,
here goes!"

He stopped on his way out to telephone his friend of his detention, took a
Westchester Avenue car at the nearest point, and in twenty minutes was at
the library. He found an obscure corner and opened envelope No. 1.

"Go to office of W.K. Newton, room 703, tenth floor, Norfolk Building, X
Street, reaching there by 9:30 A.M. Ask for letter addressed to Cornelius
Woodbridge, Jr. On way down elevator open envelope No. 2."

Cyrus began to laugh. At the same time he felt a trifle irritated. "What's
father at?" he questioned, in perplexity. "Here I am away up-town, and he
orders me back to the Norfolk Building. I passed it on my way up. Must be
he made a mistake. Told me to obey instructions, though. He usually knows
just about why he does things."

Meanwhile Mr. Woodbridge had sent for his elder son, Cornelius. A tall
youth of seventeen, with the strong family features, varied by a droop in
the eyelids and a slight drawl in his speech, lounged to the door of the
library. Before entering he straightened his shoulders; he did not,