th a strange lack of his usual decision. "As an honest
official, trusted to bring the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth to the notice
of the proper authorities, I have got to do it."

Again that strange thrill of hope at my heart induced by his peculiar
manner.

"Then my reputation as a detective! I ought surely to consider that.
I am not so rich or so famous that I can afford to forget all that a
success like this may bring me. No, lovely as she is, I have got to push
it through." But even as he said this, he became still more thoughtful,
gazing down into the murky depths of the wretched tank before him with
such an intent-ness I half expected the fascinated fishes to rise from
the water and return his gaze. What was in his mind?

After a little while he turned, his indecision utterly gone. "Mr.
Raymond, come here again at three. I shall then have my report ready for
the Superintendent. I should like to show it to you first, so don't fail
me."

There was something so repressed in his expression, I could not prevent
myself from venturing one question. "Is your mind made up?" I asked.

"Yes," he returned, but in a peculiar tone, and with a peculiar gesture.

"And you are going to make the arrest you speak of?"

"Come at three!"

XXXVI. GATHERED THREADS

"This is the short and the long of it."
--Merry Wives of Windsor.

PROMPTLY at the hour named, I made my appearance at Mr. Gryce's door. I
found him awaiting me on the threshold.

"I have met you," said he gravely, "for the purpose of requesting you
not to speak during the coming interview. I am to do the talking; you
the listening. Neither are you to be surprised at anything I may do or
say. I am in a facetious mood"--he did not look so--"and may take it
into my head to address you by another name than your own. If I do,
don't mind it. Above all, don't talk: remember that." And without
waiting to meet my look of doubtful astonishment, he led me softly
up-stairs.

The room in which I had been accustomed to meet him was at the top of
the first flight, but he took me past that into what appeared to be the
garret story, where, after many cautionary signs, he ushered me into
a room of singularly strange and unpromising appearance. In the first
place, it was darkly gloomy, being lighted simply by a very dim and
dirty skylight. Next, it was hideously empty; a pine table and two
hard-backed chairs, set face to face at each end of it, being the only
ar