s a safe question to ask what a suspected man
gains by his crime. And, if we put that question, we find that
Robert Redmayne gained nothing whatever by killing Michael
Pendean--nothing, that is, but the satisfaction of a sudden,
overpowering lust to do so. Pendean's murder made Redmayne a
vagabond, deprived him of his income and resources, set every man's
hand against him and left him a wanderer haunted by the gallows.
Yet, while he evaded the law in a manner that can only be called
miraculous, he made no attempt to avert suspicion from himself. On
the contrary he courted suspicion, took his victim to Berry Head on
a motor bicycle and did a thousand things which defiantly proclaim
him a lunatic--but for one overmastering fact. A lunatic must have
been caught: he was not.

"He vanishes from Paignton, to reappear at 'Crow's Nest'; he takes
another life; he apparently commits another senseless murder on the
person of his own brother and once more disappears, leaving not a
clue. Now, in face of these absurdities, we have a right to brush
aside the apparent facts and ask ourselves a very vital question.
What is that question, Signor Doria?"

"It is one I have already asked myself," replied Giuseppe. "It is
one I have asked my wife. It is a question, however, which I cannot
answer, because I do not know enough. There is nobody in the world
who knows enough--unless it be Robert Redmayne."

Ganns nodded and took snuff.

"Good," he said.

"But what is the question?" asked Albert Redmayne. "What is the
question Giuseppe puts to himself and, you put to yourself, Peter?
We who are not so clever do not see the question."

"The question, my friend, is this: Did Robert Redmayne murder
Michael Pendean and Bendigo Redmayne? And you can ask yourself a
still more vital question: Are these two men dead at all?"

Jenny shivered violently. She put out her hand instinctively and it
clutched Mark Brendon's arm where he sat next to her. He looked at
her and saw that her eyes were fixed with strange doubt and horror
upon Doria; while the Italian himself showed a considerable amount
of surprise at Peter's conclusion.

"Corpo di Bacco! Then--" he asked.

"Then we may be said to enlarge the scope of the inquiry a good
deal," answered Mr. Ganns mildly. He turned to Jenny.

"This is calculated to flutter you, young lady, when you think of
your second marriage," he said. "But we're not asserting anything;
we're only just having a friendl