ith your pin money?"

"I'm going down on Fifth Avenue tomorrow and invest it in a solitaire
ring, for a very small finger."

CHAPTER XXIV. CONCLUSION

Shirley made some investigations in a private reading room of the
Public Library: there was much good treasure there, not salable over the
counter of a grocery store, mayhap, but unusually valuable in the high
grade work which was his specialty. In an old volume enumerating the
noble families of Austro-Hungary he found two distinguished lines,
"Laschlas" and "Rozi."

From the library he went to a cable office where he sent a message to
the chief of police of Budapesth inquiring about the remaining members
of the families. The old volume in the library was thirty-four years
behind the times: it was the only record obtainable in America.

After a couple of hours, which he devote to some personal matters, he
received a response to his inquiry. When translated from the Hungarian
it read thus:

"Professor Montague Shirley, College Club, N.Y., U.S.A.

Families extinct except Countess Laschlas, and son Count Rozi Laschlas,
reported killed in Albanian revolution.

Csherkini, Minister of Justice."

The criminologist was happy. Here was a weapon which he had not yet
used. Now he turned his steps towards the Tombs, for an interview with
the prisoner.

After some parley with the warden, he was admitted for a visit to
Reginald Warren. That gentleman's fury was rekindled at the sight of
the club man who had been so instrumental in his downfall. But a cunning
smile played over the features of the criminal.

"So, you have come to gloat over your work, Shirley? Well, it is a game
two can play."

"Yes? I am always interested in sport. I came to see if there was
anything I could do for you in your confinement," was the unruffled
reply.

"You will be busy with your own affairs," retorted Warren. "I have been
busy writing my confession. Here is the manuscript. I will baffle all
your efforts to hush up the affairs of the 'Lobster Club.' Furthermore,
my confession," (and he exultantly waved a mass of manuscript at his
visitor,) "will send young Van Cleft to prison for perjury on the
certificate of his father's death. Captain Cronin, that prince of
blockheads, will share the same fate. Professor MacDonald, who I know
very well signed the death certificates, will be disgraced and driven
from professional standing. You will be implicated in this