re from Mr. Victor Peytral, for, as
may be imagined, I was as eager to penetrate the mystery of the Triangle
as Hewitt himself--perhaps more so, since Hewitt was a man inured to
mysteries. I had hardly had time to learn that Peytral had not yet made
up his mind so far as to write, when Plummer pushed hurriedly into the
room.

"Excuse my rushing in like this," he said, "but your lad told me that it
was Mr. Brett who was with you, and the matter needs hurry. You've heard
no more of that fellow--Myatt, Hunt, Mayes, whatever his name is
last--since the barn murder, of course? Has Peytral given you the tip he
half promised?"

Hewitt shook his head again. "Brett has this moment come to ask the same
question," he said. "I have heard nothing."

"I must have it," said Plummer, emphatically. "Do you think he will tell
me?"

Hewitt shook his head again. "Scarcely likely," he said. "He's an odd
fellow, this Mr. Peytral--a foreigner, with revenge in his blood. I have
done him and his daughter some little service, and he told me all his
private history; but he seemed even then disposed to keep Mayes to
himself and let nobody interfere with his own vengeance. But I will wire
if you like. What is it?"

"I'll tell you," said Plummer, pushing the door close behind him. "I'll
tell you--in confidence, of course--because you've seen more of this
mysterious rascal than I have, and--equally in confidence, of
course--Mr. Brett may hear, too, since he's been in several of the cases
already. Well, of course, we all know well enough that we want this
creature--Mayes, we may as well call him, I suppose, now--for three
murders, at least, to say nothing of other things. That's all very well,
and we might have got him with time. But now we want him for something
else; and it's such a thing that _we must have him at once_, or
else"--and Plummer pursed his lips and snapped his fingers
significantly. "We can't wait over this, Mr. Hewitt; _we've got to have
that man to-day_, if it can be done. And there's more than ordinary
depending on it. It's the country this time. The Admiralty telegraphic
code has been stolen!"

"By Mayes?"

Plummer shrugged his shoulders. "That's to be proved," he said; "but he
was seen leaving the office at about the time the loss occurred, and
that's enough to set me after him; and there's not another clue of any
sort. Mr. Hewitt, I wish you were in the official service!"

Hewitt smiled. "You flatter me," he said, "as