his plan. The lion was as much his
victim as anybody else. What it did it could not help doing. The very
simplicity of the plan was its passport to success. All that was
required was the unsuspected sifting of snuff on the hair of the person
whose head was to be put in the beast's mouth. The lion's smile was not,
properly speaking, a smile at all, chevalier; it was the torture which
came of snuff getting into its nostrils, and when the beast made that
uncanny noise and snapped its jaws together, it was simply the outcome
of a sneeze. The thing would be farcical if it were not that tragedy
hangs on the thread of it, and that a life, a useful human life, was
destroyed by means of it. Yes, it was clever, it was diabolically
clever; but you know what Bobby Burns says about the best-laid schemes
of mice and men. There's always a Power higher up that works the ruin of
them."

With that he walked by and, going to young Scarmelli, put out his hand.

"You're a good chap and you've got a good girl, so I expect you will be
happy," he said; and then lowered his voice so that the rest might not
reach the chevalier's ears. "You were wrong to suspect the little
stepmother," he added. "She's true blue, Scarmelli. She was only playing
up to those fellows because she was afraid the 'senor' would drop out
and close the show if she didn't, and that she and her husband and the
children would be thrown out of work. She loves her husband--that's
certain--and she's a good little woman; and, Scarmelli?"

"Yes, Mr. Cleek?"

"There's nothing better than a good woman on this earth, my lad. Always
remember that. I think you, too, have got one. I hope you have. I hope
you will be happy. What's that? Owe me? Not a rap, my boy. Or, if you
feel that you must give me something, give me your prayers for equal
luck when my time comes, and send me a slice of the wedding cake. The
riddle's solved, old chap. Good-night!"

CHAPTER IX

THE MYSTERY OF THE STEEL ROOM

"Oh, blow!" said Dollops disgustedly, as the telephone bell jingled. "A
body never gets a square meal in this house now that that blessed
thing's been put in!" Then he laid down his knife and fork, scuttled
upstairs to the instrument, and unhooked the receiver. "'Ullo! Wot's the
rumpus?" he shouted into it. "Yus, this is Captain Burbage's. Wot? No,
he ain't in. Dunno when he will be. Dunno where he is. Who is it as
wants him? If there's any message----"

The sound of some one whi