and
rang up 253480 Soho, and, on getting it, began to talk rapidly and
softly to some one who understood French.

Meantime Mr. Narkom, unaware of the little powder train he had
unconsciously lighted, had gone on up the stairs with his two
companions--purposely avoiding the lift that he might explain
matters as they went--piloted them safely to the suite occupied by
"Captain Maltravers," and at the precise moment when "Baron Rodolf
de Montravanne" walked into the telephone booth, Cleek was meeting
Miss Larue for the first time since those distressing days of
eleven months ago, and meeting Mr. Harrison Trent for the first
time ever.

Chapter XXXV

Cleek found young Trent an extremely handsome man of about
three-and-thirty; of a highly strung, nervous temperament, and
with an irritating habit of running his fingers through his hair
when excited. Also, it seemed impossible for him to sit still for
half a minute at a stretch; he must be constantly hopping up
only to sit down again, and moving restlessly about as if he were
doing his best to retain his composure and found it difficult
with Cleek's calm eyes fixed constantly upon him.

"I want to tell you something about that bloodstained sponge
business, Mr. Cleek," he said in his abrupt, jerky, uneasy manner.
"I never heard a word about it until last night, when Miss Larue
confessed her former suspicions of my dear old dad, and gave me all
the details of the matter. That sponge had nothing to do with the
affair at all. It was I that tucked it under the staircase where
it was found, and I did so on the day before James Colliver's
disappearance. The blood that had been on it was mine, not his."

"I see," said Cleek, serenely. "The explanation, of course, is the
good, old tried-and-true refuge of the story-writers--namely, a case
of nose-bleeding, is it not?"

"Yes," admitted Trent. "But with this difference: mine wasn't an
accidental affair at all--it was the result of getting a jolly good
hiding; and I made an excuse to get away and hop out of town, so that
the dad wouldn't know about it nor see how I'd been battered. The
fact is, I met one of our carmen in the upper hall. He was as drunk
as a lord, and when I took him to task about it and threatened him
with discharge, he said something to me that I thought needed a
jolly sight more than words by way of chastisement, so I nipped off
my coat and sailed into him. It turned out that he was the better
man, and