le, but presently came back and began
to tie his feet together. It was a most amazing single-handed
capture--even Jean could never have imagined the ease with which she
could gain her victory.

"I'm sorry to hurt an old man." There was a sneer in her voice which he
had not heard before. "But if you promise not to shout, I will not gag
you."

He heard the sound of running water, and presently with a wet cloth she
began wiping his eyes gently.

"You will be able to see in a minute," said Jean's cool voice. "In the
meantime you'll stay here until I send for the police."

For all his pain he was forced to chuckle.

"Until you send for the police, eh? You know me?"

"I only know you're a wicked old man who broke into this house whilst I
was alone and the servants were out," she said.

"You know why I've come?" he insisted. "I've come to tell Mrs. Meredith
that a hundred thousand pounds have been taken from her bank on a forged
signature."

"How absurd," said Jean. She was sitting on the edge of the bath looking
at the bedraggled figure. "How could anybody draw money from Mrs.
Meredith's bank whilst her dear friend and guardian, Jack Glover, is in
London to see that she is not robbed."

"Old Jaggs" glared up at her from his inflamed eyes.

"You know very well," he said distinctly, "that I am Jack Glover, and
that I have not left Monte Carlo since Lydia Meredith arrived."

Chapter XXXVI

Mr. Briggerland did not enthuse over any form of sport or exercise. His
hobbies were confined to the handsome motor-cycle, which not only
provided him with recreation, but had, on occasion, been of assistance
in the carrying out of important plans, formulated by his daughter.

He stopped at Mentone for breakfast and climbed the hill to Grimaldi
after passing the frontier station at Pont St. Louis. He had all the
morning before him, and there was no great hurry. At Ventimille he had a
second breakfast, for the morning was keen and his appetite was good. He
loafed through the little town, with a cigar between his teeth, bought
some curios at a shop and continued his leisurely journey.

His objective was San Remo. There was a train at one o'clock which would
bring him and his machine back to Monte Carlo, where it was his
intention to spend the remainder of the afternoon. At Pont St. Louis he
had had a talk with the Customs Officer.

"No, m'sieur, there are very few travellers on the road in the
morning," said the offici