t seem to enforce that, I might as well
attend to the matter in hand."

"Very good, sir." Bowing, Petrie withdrew. Meanwhile Mr. Narkom slipped
his arms into his coat--it was June, and the heat-wave had London in its
grip, and allied with an equally warm problem he had thought himself
fully justified in shedding it--and sat at his desk, drumming his
fingers upon the top of it to the tune of "God Save the King."

A moment later "Miss Maud Duggan" was standing before him--a slim,
pale-faced woman with dark-ringed eyes and a twitching, nervous mouth.
She came toward him, hands clasped over heaving breast, entire body
aflame with the intensity of her quest. Mr. Narkom, waving her to a seat
with none too much cordiality, mentally labelled her "highly strung,"
and seated himself with an effort to interest himself in what she had to
say.

"Miss Duggan, I believe?" he began, with a creditable attempt at
cordiality. "Friend of Miss Lorne's?"

"That's right," she said in a hesitating voice, with just a trace of
Scotch accent that told of the part of the British Isles which gave her
birth. "I _am_ a friend of Ailsa's--an old school friend--although we
haven't seen each other for a matter of five years. But I wrote to
her--when the trouble began--and she told me to come to you. Here is her
letter, if you care to see it."

"I prefer to listen to your version of the story first, my dear young
lady," returned Mr. Narkom, with a reassuring smile. She was palpably
nervous. "You are in trouble, of course? No one ever visits these
offices for any other reason. Now just set yourself at ease and tell me
all about it. Is it a family matter, or what?"

"Yes, it is a family matter. And a very serious one at that, Mr.
Narkom," returned Miss Duggan in her rapid voice. "And I am so worried I
don't know which way to turn--and so, in desperation, I came down--all
the way from Scotland--to consult you. You will help me, I know. It is
about my father. His life is in danger, in very grave danger, and I am
afraid that even now, while I am away, something may happen to him, and
that woman practise her cunning successfully at last."

"In danger?" Mr. Narkom sat forward in his chair, his professional
instincts awake at the word. "Who is the woman of whom you speak, Miss
Duggan, and why should she have designs on your father's life? Begin at
the beginning and tell me where you live, and all about it. There's
plenty of time, you know. Things don't h