t's exactly what I am supposing," was Malcolm Sage's reply and,
taking the note that Mr. Llewellyn John held out to him, he placed
it in his breast pocket, buttoned up his overcoat, and walked across
to the window through which he had entered. With one hand upon the
curtain he turned.

"If I call you may notice that I have acquired a slight foreign
accent," he said, and with that he slipped behind the curtain. A
moment later the sound was heard of the window being quietly opened
and then shut again.

"Well, I'm damned!" cried Lord Beamdale, and for the moment Mr.
Llewelyln John and Sir Lyster forgot their surprise at Malcolm
Sage's actions in their astonishment at their colleague's remark.

CHAPTER VII THE OUTRAGE AT THE GARAGE

I

When Mr. Walters descended the broad staircase of The Towers on the
Sunday morning he found two things to disturb him--Sir Lyster's note
on the hall-table, and the Japanese valet "lost" in the conservatory.

He read the one with attention, and rebuked the other with acrimony.
Having failed to find the missing key himself, he proceeded to the
housekeeper's room, and poured into the large and receptive ear of
Mrs. Eames the story of his woes.

"And this a Sunday too," the housekeeper was just remarking, in a
fat, comfortable voice, when Richards, the chauffeur, burst
unceremoniously into the room.

"Someone's taken the pencils from all the magnetos," he shouted
angrily, his face moist with heat and lubricant.

"Is that your only excuse for bursting into a lady's room without
knocking?" enquired Mr. Walters, with an austere dignity he had
copied directly from Sir Lyster. "If you apply to me presently I
will lend you a pencil. In the meantime----"

"But it's burglars. They've broken into the garage and taken the
pencils from every magneto, every blinkin' one," he added by way of
emphasis.

At the mention of the word "burglars," Mr. Walters's professional
composure of feature momentarily forsook him, and his jaw dropped.
Recovering himself instantly, however, he hastened out of the room,
closely followed by Richards, leaving Mrs. Eames speechless, the
oval cameo locket heaving up and down upon her indignant black-silk
bosom. A man had sworn in her presence and had departed unrebuked.

On reaching the garage Mr. Walters gazed vaguely about him. He was
entirely unversed in mechanics, and Richards persisted in pouring
forth technicalities that bewildered him. The cha