he most respectable citizen of the
town--perhaps on a wild goose errand."

"I guess not," said Ned quietly.

"We daren't assume anything. I don't want to make a fool of myself, and
no more do you, I take it."

"I see," said Ned, with a nod. "Well, I'll keep him in his chair for
you."

"That's it."

They were walking quickly through the silent town under the windy night
sky. It was a dark boisterous evening, not inviting for strollers, and
they scarcely passed a soul till they were in the quiet road where the
villa stood. There, from the shadows of a gateway, two figures moved out
to meet them, and Cromarty recognised Superintendent Sutherland and one
of his constables. The two saluted in silence and fell in behind. They
each carried, he noticed, something long-shaped wrapped up loosely in
sacking.

"What have they got there?" he asked.

"Prosaic instruments," smiled Carrington. "I won't tell you more for
fear the gamble doesn't come off."

"Like the sensation before one proposes, I suppose," said Ned. "Well,
going by that, the omens ought to be all right."

They turned in through Simon's gates and then the four stopped.

"We part here," whispered Carrington. "Good luck!"

"Same to you," said Ned briefly, and strode up the drive.

As he came out into the gravel sweep before the house, he looked hard
into the darkness of the garden, but beyond the tossing shapes of trees,
there was not a sign of movement.

"Mr. Rattar in?" he enquired. "Sitting in the library I suppose? Take me
right to him. Cromarty's my name."

"Mr. Cromarty to see you, sir," announced Mary, and she was startled to
see the master's sudden turn in his chair and the look upon his face.

"Whether he was feared or whether he was angered, I canna rightly say,"
she told cook, "but anyway he looked fair mad like!"

"Good evening," said Ned.

His voice was restrained and dry, and as he spoke he strode across the
room and seated himself deliberately in the arm chair on the side of the
fire opposite to the lawyer.

Simon had banished that first look which Mary saw, but there remained in
his eyes something more than their usual cold stare. Each day since
Carrington came seemed to have aged his face and changed it for the
worse: a haggard, ugly, malicious face it seemed to his visitor looking
hard at it to-night. His only greeting was a briefer grunt than
ordinary.

"I daresay you can guess what's brought me here," said Ned.

The lawyer r