functions of Scotland Yard, but he particularly
disapproved of a private detective like Colwyn, whose popular renown was
far greater than his own. But there were politic reasons for the
extension of courtesy to him. The famous private detective was such a
powerful rival that it was best to conciliate him with a little
politeness, which cost nothing, and he had done Scotland Yard several
good turns which at least demanded an outward show of gratitude. He had
influence in the right quarter, too, and, altogether, was not a person
to be lightly affronted. The consideration of these factors impelled
Merrington to inform the waiting janitor that he would see Mr. Colwyn at
once, and even caused him to crease his fat red features into a smile of
welcome as he awaited his entrance.

When Colwyn appeared in the doorway the big man he had called to see got
up from his swing-chair to shake hands with him. When his visitor was
seated Merrington leaned back in his own chair and remarked, in his
great rolling voice:

"What can I do for you, Mr. Colwyn?"

"Nothing personally. I have called to have a talk with you about the
Heredith case."

The veneer of welcome disappeared from Merrington's face at this
opening, though a large framed photograph of himself on the wall behind
his chair continued to smile down at the private detective with unwonted
amiability.

"Ah, yes, the Heredith case," he responded. "A strange affair, that. I
investigated it personally. It was a pity you were not in it. There were
points about that murder--distinct points. You would have enjoyed it."

Merrington's professional commiseration of Colwyn's ill-luck in missing
an enjoyable murder was intended to convey a distinct rebuke to the
other's presumption in discussing a case in which he had not been
engaged. But Colwyn's next words startled Merrington out of his attitude
of censorious dignity.

"I was not in the case at first, but I was called into it subsequently
by the husband of the murdered woman. He is dissatisfied with the
outcome. He thinks a mistake has been made in arresting the girl Hazel
Rath."

The silence with which Merrington received this information was an
involuntary tribute to his visitor, implying, as it did, that he knew
Colwyn would not have come to see him without weighty reason for the
support of what sounded like the repetition of a mere expression of
opinion.

"I was reluctant to interfere until Mr. Heredith told me something