CHAPTER XVII THE GOLD-FRINGED GOWN –––––––– After that night Fleming Stone became more desperately in earnest in his search for Vicky. It seemed as if the sight of her, the realization that she was a real woman and not a myth, had whetted his eagerness to discover her hiding place and bring her to book. He established himself in her house, and both he and Fibsy practically lived there, going out for their meals or picnicking in the basement room. This room became his headquarters, and a plain clothes man was on duty whenever Stone and Fibsy were both absent. "Though I don't think she'll ever come back again," Stone declared, gloomily. "She was desperately anxious for that address book, and so she got it, through my stupidity. I might have known she'd make a dash for the street door. I

