ing the order to the chauffeur the maid volunteered the
interesting information that she had left the Judge swallowing his
breakfast with unprecedented haste, and that the newspaper had not been
unfolded. The chauffeur, having designs of a serious nature upon her,
was obliged to conceal his natural repugnance to haste, disassociated
from a motor: but he consoled himself with the other part of her
message. It was not unpleasant to discover in the lady of one's choice
such evidence of keen perception. He went to his task whistling.

III

As Roger came down to breakfast he fancied he heard the front door slam.
Judith was just leaving the library.

"Having callers?" he asked cheerfully.

"No," she said shortly. He noticed suddenly that her face seemed
bloodless. Fired with a vague suspicion that matters were not as they
should be, he strolled over to the window.

"Whose car is that outside? Say--that looks for all the world like the
Judge. What's he doing out at this hour d'ye suppose?"

"I'm sure I can't guess." Judith's voice seemed curiously dry and husky.
She was gazing sightlessly straight before her. Roger ached to voice the
questions which rose in his mind, but the expression on his sister's
face deterred him. He contented himself with studying her narrowly.

It was Judith who broke the silence first.

"Roger," she said suddenly, "I want you to arrange at once with a
detective agency to find Mr. Good."

"Oh, see here, sis," he protested. "That's foolish, you know. He'll come
back--give him time."

"I can wait no longer," said Judith coldly. "Please do as I ask--this
morning."

"That was the Judge who was here. He told you something?" demanded Roger
accusingly. There was no reply. He finished his meal before questioning
her again. There was still no reply. Then he shrugged his shoulders and
left her. When his sister's lips formed a line like the cut of a razor,
Roger knew the futility of interrogation or argument.

Within an hour the machinery of one of the greatest systems of espionage
in the world was set in motion for the trifling purpose of locating the
present whereabouts of one Brent Good, described as well over six feet
tall, with hazel eyes, thin hair, a large mouth and nose, heavy
eyebrows, a deep and not unmusical voice, a marked stoop to the
shoulders, and wearing a suit, as Roger expressed it, "rather brown."

CHAPTER XV

"THIRTY"--AND ANOTHER STORY

But the weeks rolled away,