l afforded
an instance of this, and even more notable was his first meeting with
Major Jack Ragstaff of the Cavalry Club, a meeting which took place
after the office had been closed, but which led to the unmasking of
perhaps the most cunning murderer in the annals of crime.

One summer's evening when the little clock upon his table was rapidly
approaching the much-desired hour, Harley lay back in his chair and
stared meditatively across his private office in the direction of a
large and very handsome Burmese cabinet, which seemed strangely out of
place amid the filing drawers, bookshelves, and other usual impedimenta
of a professional man. A peculiarly uninteresting week was drawing to
a close, and he was wondering if this betokened a decreased activity in
the higher criminal circles, or whether it was merely one of those usual
quiescent periods which characterize every form of warfare.

Paul Harley, although the fact was unknown to the general public,
occupied something of the position of an unofficial field marshal of the
forces arrayed against evildoers. Throughout the war he had undertaken
confidential work of the highest importance, especially in regard to
the Near East, with which he was intimately acquainted. A member of
the English bar, and the last court of appeal to which Home Office and
Foreign Office alike came in troubled times, the brass plate upon the
door of his unassuming premises in Chancery Lane conveyed little or
nothing to the uninitiated.

The man himself, with his tropical bronze and air of eager vitality,
must have told the most careless observer that he stood in the presence
of an extraordinary personality. He was slightly gray at the temples in
these days, but young in mind and body, physically fit, and possessed
of an intellectual keenness which had forced recognition from two
hemispheres. His office was part of an old city residence, and his
chambers adjoined his workroom, so that now, noting that his table clock
registered the hour of six, he pressed a bell which summoned Innes, his
confidential secretary.

"Well, Innes," said Harley, looking around, "another uneventful day."

"Very uneventful, Mr. Harley. About a month of this and you will have to
resume practice at the bar."

Paul Harley laughed.

"Not a bit likely, Innes," he replied. "No more briefs for me. I shall
retire to Norfolk and devote my declining years to fishing."

"I don't know that fishing would entirely satisfy me,