alton, absently, not thinking of
what the detective was saying.

"Ill," answered Kilsip. "After she left the Chinaman she went into the
country, caught cold by falling into some river, and ended up by
getting brain fever. Some people found her, took her in, and nursed
her. When she got well she came back to her grandmother's."

"But why didn't the people who nursed her tell her she was wanted? They
must have seen the papers."

"Not they," retorted the detective. "They knew nothing."

"Vegetables!" muttered Calton, contemptuously. "How can people be so
ignorant! Why, all Australia has been ringing with the case. At any
rate, it's money out of their pocket. Well?"

"There's nothing more to tell," said Kilsip, "except that she turned up
to-night at five o'clock, looking more like a corpse than anything
else."

When they entered the squalid, dingy passage that led to Mother
Guttersnipe's abode, they saw a faint light streaming down the stair.
As they climbed up they could hear the rancorous voice of the old hag
pouring forth alternate blessings and curses on her prodigal offspring,
and the low tones of a girl's voice in reply. On entering the room
Calton saw that the sick woman, who had been lying in the corner on the
occasion of his last visit, was gone. Mother Guttersnipe was seated in
front of the deal table, with a broken cup and her favourite bottle of
spirits before her. She evidently intended to have a night of it, in
order to celebrate Sal's return, and had commenced early, so as to lose
no time. Sal herself was seated on a broken chair, and leaned wearily
against the wall. She stood up as Calton and the detective entered, and
they saw that she was a tall, slender woman of about twenty-five, not
bad-looking, but with a pallid and haggard appearance from recent
illness. She was clothed in a kind of tawdry blue dress, much soiled
and torn, and had over her shoulders an old tartan shawl, which she
drew tightly across her breast as the strangers entered. Her
grandmother, who looked more weird and grotesquely horrible than ever,
saluted Calton and the detective on their entrance with a shrill yell,
and a volley of choice language.

"Oh, ye've come again, 'ave ye," she screeched, raising her skinny
arms, "to take my gal away from 'er pore old gran'mother, as nussed
'er, cuss her, when 'er own mother had gone a-gallivantin' with swells.
I'll 'ave the lawr of ye both, s'elp me, I will."

Kilsip paid no attention t