Nothing has been disturbed.
Yes, at the Waldron, Fifty-Seventh Street.

Please hurry." Perhaps half an hour later the police came--two bull-necked plain-clothes men and a flannel-mouthed "cop." With them came three reporters, one of them a woman.

She was a young woman, plainly dressed and, though she could not be called beautiful, there was a certain patrician prettiness in her small, oval, womanly face with its grey kind eyes, its aquiline nose, its firm lips and determined jaw, a certain charm in the manner in which her chestnut hair escaped occasionally from under her trim hat.

Young, aggressive, keen of mind and tireless, Stella Donovan was one of the few good woman reporters of the city and the only one the _Star_ kept upon its pinched pay-roil.

They did so because she could cover a man-size job and get a feminine touch into her story after she did it.