Josie O'Gorman loved mysteries for their own sake. She loved them because they required solutions, and to solve a mystery is not only interesting but requires a definite amount of talent. Since she was a wee thing perched on her father's knee, Officer O'Gorman had flooded her ears with the problems he daily encountered, had turned the problems inside out and them from every possible viewpoint, questioning the child if this, or that, was most probable. By this odd method he not only enjoyed the society of his beloved daughter but argued himself, through shrewd reasoning, into a explanation of many puzzling cases. To his pleased surprise, as little Josie grew older she began to answer his questions, taking a part in his professional arguments with himself, and from that time her training as a detective began.  
John O'Gorman had never been quite sure whether his fatherly influenced him or whether Josie was indeed an exceptionally talented girl; so, having firmly to train her to become a girl detective, he had so far held her in , permitting her to investigate various private cases but refusing to place her in professional work—such as the secret service—until she had gained experience and acquired confidence in herself. Confidence was the one thing Josie lacked most. She took her mistakes too much to heart.
 
The girl was full of enthusiasm, however, and now meant to untangle the mystery of Alora Jones if it were possible to do so, both to please Mary Louise and to enjoy the satisfaction of success. After saying good night to her friends, and before going to her own room, the girl wandered about the big hotel making casual and obtaining more or less useful information. , she sat in her room and arranged in her mind the complete history of Alora, so far as she was informed of it, and made notes of all facts which seemed to bear on the present problem.
 
Next morning she inquired for the and found that lady seated in her little office on the third floor of the hotel.
 
"I'm trying to trace one of the servants who left you Monday night, or early Tuesday morning," she said, after informing the woman that she was engaged in tracing the missing girl, Alora Jones. "I am not sure what name you knew her by, but her real name was Gorham."
 
"No one has left us this week," returned the housekeeper, who seemed disposed to freely with her visitor.
 
"Are you sure of that?"
 
"Why, I'm positive. We treat our help well and they seldom leave us. I'm sure no woman employed in this hotel, down to the lowest kitchen scullion, has resigned or been discharged during the last few days."
 
"And there is no one still in your service named Gorham?"
 
"No one. It's an unusual name and I should have remembered it."
 
"Do any of the guests ever use the servants' entrance?"
 
"Certainly not. It is reserved exclusively for the employees. Some of our guests have private maids, who occasionally use the rear entrances, and Mrs. Tolliver's trained nurses are allowed to pass out that way, too; but——"
 
She stopped , as if some new thought had occurred to her.
 
"What is it?" asked Josie, who was watching her face.
 
"Why, I have just that Mrs. Tolliver's night nurse did not show up Tuesday evening, for some reason, and they were obliged to telephone for another."
 
"Who is Mrs. Tolliver?"
 
"One of our permanent guests, who is suffering just now from a severe attack of . She employs two trained nurses, a day nurse and a night nurse."
 
"And the night nurse left her post Tuesday morning and did not return in the evening, as she was expected to do?"
 
"That's it, miss. Mrs. Tolliver was greatly annoyed, but fortunately she was able to secure another nurse at once."
 
"What was the nurse's name—the one who abandoned her job without notice?"
 
"Let me see. It wasn't Gorham. I'll call Alice, my assistant; I feel quite sure that she will know."
 
Alice answered the bell and on being questioned said:
 
"The nurse was Mrs. Orme. She'd been with Mrs. Tolliver ever since she was took sick, and was the best nurse she's had."
 
"Why did she leave?" asked Josie.
 
"I don't know, miss, I'm sure. She were a quiet body, never sayin' much to no one. But quite ladylike, she were, an' most of us liked her."
 
"Can you describe her?"
 
"Well, she isn't tall—not so very tall, you know—an' she's got a good form an' good manners. I take it she's about thirty- five, an' handsome for her age. Good eyes, but mostly looks down an' don't show 'em. Very neat an' tidy. Brown hair. She wore gray clothes, you know—the reg'lar nurse's uniform."
 
"Do you know where Mrs. Orme lives?"
 
"No, miss; haven't the faintest idea."
 
"Who is Mrs. Tolliver's doctor?"
 
"The house physician, Dr. Pease. His office is No. 633, in this hotel."
 
"Thank you, Alice."
 
Josie hunted up Mary Louise.
 
"Have you ever heard that a trained nurse named Mrs. Orme is in any way connected with Alora's history?" she asked.
 
"No; I'm pretty sure Alora has never mentioned such a person. What about her, Josie?
 
"I think Alora went away with her. Have you any description of Miss Gorham, the governess?"
 
"Not especially," said Mary Louise, trying to remember. "Alora has sometimes referred to her as 'Old Skinny,' but that doesn't mean anything."
 
"It means she isn't Mrs. Orme, anyhow," answered Josie, in a disappointed tone.
 
Mary Louise considered this in her usual careful way. She would like to help Josie, if she could.
 
"Who do you suppose this Mrs. Orme could be?" she presently asked.
 
"Some one whom Alora knew years ago, when her mother was alive. Of course her name may not have been Orme, then, and she may not have been a trained nurse. That's why I was inclined to connect her with Gorham."
 
"Wait a minute, Josie! A nurse, do you say? Why, I remember something about a nurse, no—Alora's mother's nurse. When we were in Italy, where I first knew Alora, she told me that her father, at one time when they lived in New York, had been forced to give money to a woman, and Alora believed he had left America to escape this person's further demands. When I asked who the woman was, she said it was her mother's nurse; but I'm pretty sure she didn't mention her name."
 
Josie's face now wore a broad smile.
 
"How simple any proves when you have the key," she remarked, with an air of relief. "The mystery is solved, my dear! It's all as easy as A. B. C."
 
"In that case," said Mary Louise, more mystified than ever, " oblige me with the key."
 
"With pleasure. You haven't given me much time to forge a chain, so I'll add each link as it occurs to me. Mrs. Jones, during her last illness, had a nurse; a good nurse, too, in whom she had confidence. When Mrs. Jones sent for her husband, from whom she had been , the nurse was aware of the action. When the husband came—Alora's father—without doubt the nurse remained in the sick room during the interview. Husband and wife quarreled, instea............