ethods of sleuth-hounds as my old
boot!"

So saying, he fell to examining the photograph again, and tossing the
two pieces of flexible wire up and down in the palm of one hand, and
muttering to himself like a lunatic, while Dollops and Mr. Narkom, in
silence, could do nothing more but wonder and look on.

CHAPTER XXVII

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LIBRARY

It was exactly eleven o'clock, and the various clocks in the house were
chiming the hour out from every nook and corner of the Castle when
Cleek, followed by Dollops and Mr. Narkom, made his way to the library,
and found assembled there all the members of that ill-fated family--as
well as those others who had perforce been obliged to stay there
over-night at his orders--and with a polite "good morning" and a stiff
little bow, took his place in the midst of them and glanced around.

They were a wan, white-faced lot. Lady Paula's black eyes were ringed
with violet, Maud Duggan's face was pinched and old-looking in the
morning light, as though the night had seen no sleep for _her_ (which
was true), Johanna McCall's little peaked face was pale as ivory, and
her eyes looked heavy-lidded, as though she had cried overmuch in the
still watches (which was true also), while Cynthia Debenham and
Catherine Dowd sat with set faces and angry eyes, watching him as though
deadly afraid of what he might say or do next. Ross Duggan's countenance
was as lined as an old man's; Captain Macdonald showed by the flare of
nostrils and flash of eye that his temper was still as hot as his
tongue, and not improved for the keeping; and little Cyril--who slipped
in a moment or two late, with Tavish bringing up the rear--had the look
of a boy who was scared half out of his wits.

And scared badly he was, too. Trembling hands showed it; trembling lips
showed it still more. Cleek's eyes narrowed down as he glanced at the
boy's set face, and he found it hard to give him even so much as a
welcoming smile. Like mother like son--that boy. As wily as you make
'em. And untrustworthy, too. He was not so fond of Master Cyril, now
that he knew more of him, as he had been at first meeting.

When they were all seated, with P. C. Mackay keeping watch over the door
and another constable on the outside of it, Cleek turned to them and let
the queer little one-sided smile so indicative of the man travel up his
face.

"Well, my friends," said he in his smooth, low-pitched voice, "I
promised you something w