blinds, like yellow eyelids in the grey face,
awakened some secret irritation in Caldew's breast, and with it the
realization of his powers as an officer of Scotland Yard.

"I shall force a way in and see," he angrily declared.

"Better get a key from the housekeeper," suggested Colwyn. "The women
who look after these bachelor flats always have duplicate keys. But the
front door is ajar. Let us go upstairs first."

They ascended the stairs to the flat, and the first thing they noticed
was a Yale key in the keyhole of the door.

"A sign of mental upset," commented Colwyn. "At such moments people
forget the little things."

They opened the door and entered. The front room was much as Colwyn had
seen it the previous night. The flowers drooped in their bowl; the
chorus girls smirked in their silver settings; the framed racehorses and
their stolid trainers looked woodenly down from the pink walls.

"Nepcote does not seem to have taken anything away with him," remarked
Caldew, looking into the bedroom. "The wardrobe is full of his uniforms,
but the bed has not been occupied."

"Here is the proof that he has fled," said Colwyn, flinging back the lid
of a desk which stood in the sitting-room. It was filled to the brim
with a mass of torn papers.

"Anything compromising?" asked Caldew, eagerly approaching to look at
the litter.

"No; only bills and invitations. Any dangerous letters have been burnt
there." He pointed to the grate, which was heaped with blackened
fragments. "He's made a good job of it too," he added, as he went to the
fireplace and bent over it. "There's not the slightest chance of
deciphering a line. But it would be as well to search his clothes. He
may have forgotten some letters in the pockets."

Caldew took the hint, and disappeared into the inner room, leaving
Colwyn examining the contents of the grate. He returned in a few minutes
to say that he had found nothing in the clothes except a few Treasury
notes and some loose silver in a trousers' pocket.

"That looks as if he had bolted in such a hurry that he forgot to take
his change with him," said Colwyn. "It is another interesting revelation
of his state of mind, because there is very little doubt that he
returned to the flat this morning after leaving it last night."

"How do you arrive at that conclusion?"

"By the burnt letters in the grate. They are still warm. He was in such
a state of fear that he dared not sleep in the flat last night