"I sha'n't go to sleep anyway, Auntie, so--"
The ringing of the door bell startled them. Alix sprang to her feet
in alarm.
"Don't go to the door!" she cried. "It's--it's Courtney Thane!"
"Nonsense! He'll not be coming here. Sit down. I'll inquire who it
is before I open the door."
"Under no circumstances are you to let him in, Mrs. Strong," ordered
Alix peremptorily.
"I should say not! It would look pretty, wouldn't it, if the papers
came out and said the notorious bandit was captured in the home of
Miss Alix Crown, the beautiful and wealthy heiress? They always--"
The bell rang again. "Put the cream in yourself, Alix. I'll see
who it is."
Alix followed her with anxious, apprehensive eyes as she passed
into the hall. She heard the following dialogue:
"Who is it?"
"Does Miss Crown live here?" came in a clear, boyish voice from
the outside.
"She does. Who are you and what do you want?"
"I'm a messenger boy. I got a letter for her."
"A letter? Who's it from?"
"Say, open up! I can't stand out here all night."
"Who is it from?" repeated Mrs. Strong firmly.
"How do I know? I ain't no mind-reader."
Mrs. Strong looked in at Alix. "I guess it's all right, isn't it?"
"Open the door," said Alix quietly.
A small, shivering messenger boy in uniform entered.
"Are you Miss Crown?"
"No, I'm not. Where's the letter?"
"I got to deliver it to her.
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