ddenly silent. He seemed to have turned into a figure
of stone. For a single second the smooth surface of the mirror was
obscured. A room crept dimly like a picture into being, a fire upon the
hearth, a girl leaning back in her chair. A door in the background opened.
A man stole out. He crept nearer to the girl--his eyes fixed upon the
diamonds, a thin, silken cord twisted round his wrist. Suddenly she saw
him--too late! His hand was upon her lips,--his face seemed to start
almost from the mirror--then blackness!

* * * * *

Lenora opened her eyes. She was still in the easy-chair before the fire.

"Mr. Quest!" she faltered.

He looked up from some letters which he had been studying.

"I am so sorry," he said politely. "I really had forgotten that you were
here. But you know--that you have been to sleep?"

She half rose to her feet. She was perplexed, uneasy.

"Asleep?" she murmured. "Have I? And I dreamed a horrible dream!... Have I
been ringing anyone up on the telephone?"

"Not that I know of," Quest assured her. "As a matter of fact, I was
called downstairs to see one of my men soon after we got here."

"Can I go now?" she asked.

"Certainly," Quest replied. "To tell you the truth, I find that I shall
not need to ask you those questions, after all. A messenger from the
police-station has been here. He says they have come to the conclusion
that a very well-known gang of New York criminals are in this thing. We
know how to track them down all right."

[Illustration: SANFORD QUEST IS CALLED UPON TO CLEAR THE MYSTERY OF THE
MURDER OF LORD ASHLEIGH'S DAUGHTER.]

[Illustration: UNDER THE HYPNOTIC INFLUENCE OF QUEST, LENORA REVEALS THE
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE JEWELS, AND THE MURDER.]

"I may go now, then?" she repeated, with immense relief.

Quest escorted the girl downstairs, opened the front door, blew his
whistle and his car pulled up at the door.

"Take this young lady," he ordered, "wherever she wishes. Good night!"

The girl drove off. Quest watched the car disappear around the corner.
Then he turned slowly back and made preparations for his adventure....

"Number 700, New York," he muttered, half an hour later, as he left his
house. "Beyond Fourteenth Street--a tough neighbourhood."

He hesitated for a moment, feeling the articles in his overcoat pocket--a
revolver in one, a small piece of hard substance in the other. Then he
stepped into his car, which had just