Suspense by Isabel Ostrander

On the morning following her visit to the opera, Betty sat at her desk in the library, with a copy of the _Literary Digest_, which had just arrived in the mail spread out before her. The waiting heap of correspondence was forgotten, and she read and reread as if hypnotized the chance advertisement which had caught her eye:

"Wanted: -- Translator of Egyptian inscriptions and papyri of later dynastic periods. Scholar conversant with Mallory method preferred. Exceptionally high rates, tripling those ever previously paid in America will be given for accurate authentic work. No immediate time limit. Call office nine, National Egyptological Museum."