the
various pictures--photographs of his mills, warehouses, town office, his
own private house, grounds, surroundings, chatting unconcernedly about
each. And while the two men were thus engaged in came Mrs. Marlow,
bringing letters which needed Fullaway's signature.

"Mrs. Marlow knows more about amateur photography than I do," remarked
Fullaway, with a glance at his secretary. "Here, Mrs. Marlow, these are
same of Mr. Allerdyke's productions--you remember that his cousin, Mr.
James Allerdyke, gave you a photo which this Mr. Allerdyke had taken?"

Allerdyke, keenly watching the secretary's pretty face as she laid her
papers on Fullaway's desk, saw no sign of embarrassment or confusion;
Fullaway might have made the most innocent and ordinary remark in the
world, and yet, according to Allerdyke's theory and positive knowledge,
it must be fraught with serious meaning to this woman.

"Oh yes!" she flashed, without as much as the flicker of an eyelash. "I
remember--a particularly good photo. So like him!"

Allerdyke's ingenuity immediately invented a remark; he was at that stage
when, he wanted to know as much as possible.

"I wonder which print it was that he gave you?" he said. "One of them--I
only did a few--had a spot in it that'll spread. If that's the one
you've got, I'll give you another in its place, Mrs. Marlow. Have you
got it here?"

But Mrs. Marlow shook her head and presented the same unabashed front.

"No," she answered readily enough. "I took it home, Mr. Allerdyke. But
there's no spot on my print--I should have noticed it at once. May I look
at your album when Mr. Fullaway's finished with it?"

Allerdyke left the album with them and went away. He was utterly
astonished by Mrs. Marlow's coolness. If, as he already believed, she was
mixed up in the murders and robberies, she must know that the photograph
which James Allerdyke had given her was a most important factor, and yet
she spoke of it as calmly and unconcernedly as if it had been a mere
scrap of paper! Of course she hadn't got it at the office--nor at her
home either--it was there at Hull, fitted into the cover of Lydenberg's
old watch.

"A cool hand!" soliloquized Allerdyke as he went downstairs. "Cool,
clever, calm, never off her guard. A damned dangerous woman!--that's the
long and short of it. And--what next?"

Experience and observation of life had taught Marshall Allerdyke that
good counsel is one of life's most valuable assets. He coul