ouple of gentlemen from Scotland Yard, Loti, who have come to
look into the matter of young Colliver's disappearance," was the way
in which Trent made that introduction. "You can go on with your work;
they won't interfere with you."

"Welcome, gentlemen--most welcome," said Loti, with that courtesy
which Continental people never quite forget; then nodded, and went
on with his work as he had been told, adding, with a mournful shake
of the head: "Ah! a strange business that, signori; an exceedingly
strange business."

"Very," agreed Cleek off-handedly and from the other end of the room.
"Rippin' quarters, these, signor; and now that I've seen 'em I don't
mind confessing that my pet theory has gone all to smash and I'm up
a gum-tree, so to speak. I'd an idea, you know, that there might
be a sliding-panel or a trapdoor which you chaps here might have
overlooked, and down which the boy might have dropped, or maybe gone
on a little explorin' expedition of his own, don't you know, and
hadn't been able to get back."

"Well, of all the idiotic ideas--," began Trent, but was suffered to
get no further.

"Yes, isn't it?" agreed Cleek, with his best blithering-idiot air.
"I realize that, now that I see your floor's of concrete. Necessary,
I suppose, on account of the chemicals and the inflammable nature of
the wax? You could have a rippin' old flare-up here if that stuff
was to catch fire from a dropped match or anything of that sort--eh,
what? Blest if I can see"--turning slowly on his heel and looking all
round the room--"a ghost of a place where the young nipper could have
got. It's a facer for me. But, I say"--as if suddenly struck with an
idea--"you don't think that he nipped something valuable and cut
off with it, do you? Didn't miss any money or anything of that sort
which you'd left lying about, did you, Mr.--er--Lotus, eh?"

"Loti, if you please, signor. I had indeed hoped that my name was
well known enough to--_Pouffe!_ No, I miss nothing--I miss not so
much as a pin. I am told he shall not have been that kind of a boy."
And then, with a shake of the head and a pitying glance toward
the author of these two asinine theories regarding the strange
disappearance, returned to his work of putting the finishing touches
to a recumbent figure representing a dead soldier lying in the
foreground of the tableau.

"Oh, well, you never can tell what boys will do; and it's an old
saying that 'a good booty makes many a thief,'" r