hat after he made fast the front door he
ran back to the rear stairs--he was afraid to pass again the body on
the landing--where he observed the rear door wide-open. This he also
closed and locked, then hurried up to the second floor, being governed
by only one idea--to secure, as quickly as he possibly could, Maillot's
companionship.

Between the instant he started to follow Fluette down-stairs and the
time he stood rapping at Maillot's door, he had consumed much less than
a minute. Some time later he thought of the Burmese, but when he
looked into his room it was empty. The open back door accounted for
their absence.

When I departed from Alfred Fluette--and I did that very thing; walked
deliberately away from him, leaving him hopeful in the midst of his
household--my heart was exultant, although I had in contemplation a
task that might have dismayed Hercules.

But sometimes, usually when we are least expecting it, or when we are
getting our affairs into too much of a muddle. Providence intervenes,
and with a decisive stroke straightens matters out for us. After all,
it is ridiculous wasting so much time and energy in rough-hewing our
ends, when the shaping lies with other hands than ours. On this day of
days Providence appeared in the guise of Dr. Wentworth De Breen.

His buggy drew up at the curb beside me.

"Hullo!" was his gruff salutation.

I was pleased at the meeting.

"The very man I was wanting to see," said I. "How many hospitals are
there in the city and the immediate vicinity?"

He eyed me in his customary serious, intent manner. I amplified:

"I have n't the least idea, you know. Perhaps I could name a dozen,
perhaps a score; but there might be five hundred. Anyhow, I have to
search them all--or, until I find what I want."

"The deuce you have!" he jerked out. "Anything to do with your ruby
case?"

"Everything," said I.

"Well!" He stared at me a moment, then with a sudden movement whipped
the fur lap-robe aside. "Get in here," he commanded, in his abrupt
manner.

The next instant I was seated beside him, and his spirited mare was
dashing along the street at a pace which I regarded as altogether too
reckless. Dr. De Breen had a weakness for spirited horses, and he
handled them with a careless ease that never failed to excite in me a
secret envy; for--I here confess it--I always have been a bit afraid of
horses, whether spirited or not; not much, but just enough to make me
c