burglary for you, Auntie."

There was a train at 10.15 a.m., and of this Auntie would avail
herself.

No policeman came to the house. Augustus did not return.

"He and the detectives have got on a track, and are following it up,"
his wife said. "Trust Gussie!"

When the ladies were about to sit down to breakfast, and still the
master of the house had not returned, Grace was a little surprised. The
neighbour who had played bridge with them came in. He had heard of the
burglary, and was come to offer assistance, he said. He picked up a
couple of newspapers lying by Mr Mellish's empty plate.

"You let those alone! Gussie hasn't seen them yet," Gussie's wife said.
The Mellishes were on terms of great intimacy with the neighbour.

"I'll take them, all the same," he laughed. "Send Gus to me for them if
he wants them."

"I tell you what! I think I'll just 'phone up to the office to see if
Gussie's there," Grace said. "I don't see the fun of being kept in the
dark like this. I should like to know what's going on, and if they've
caught anyone."

The face of the friendly neighbour changed as she disappeared to carry
out this intention. He walked close to Auntie and whispered in her ear:

"Don't let her get hold of a newspaper," he said. "There's disagreeable
news. I heard it last night. Mellish has got into a scrape--forgery,
they say. I hope to heaven he's got away--H-s-s-sh!"

There was no need of the caution. Auntie, with the grand talent for
silence which distinguished her, sat with a sucked-in lip looking
heavily after the retreating neighbour, when Grace returned. Grace,
bright and pretty in her neat morning blouse, made a laughing dash at
the papers in the neighbour's hand. He flourished them a moment above
her head and retired.

"Gussie's not at the office," Mrs Mellish said. "He's on the track of
your burglar, Auntie, you bet. He'll catch him, too! You'll be wanted
to identify him; could you swear to him, do you think?"

Auntie very hurriedly declared her inability to do this. "All the upper
part of his face was covered," she said.

But she thought of a black-shaved chin below the mask, and a jaw that
had worked silently, in a way of late familiar to her; and she found
herself quite unable to do justice to her niece's eggs and bacon.

* * * * *

At the door of the first-class railway compartment by which Auntie was
to travel Grace stood.

"Gussie will be furiou