only remark.

"I've been so busy," replied Rolfe, again evading the question, and
avoiding meeting Crewe's glance by turning over the leaves of his stamp
album. "You see, there has been a rush of work at Scotland Yard lately.
There is that big burglary at Lord Emden's, and the case of the woman
whose body was found in the river lock at Peyton, and half a dozen other
cases, all important in their way. There has been quite an epidemic of
crime lately, as you know, Mr. Crewe. I don't seem to get a minute to
myself these times."

"Rolfe," said Crewe drily, "you protest too much. You don't suppose that
after coming over here to see you that I can be deceived by such talk?"

Rolfe flushed at these uncompromising words, but before he could speak
Crewe proceeded in a milder tone.

"I don't blame you a bit for trying to put me off. It's all part of the
game. We're rivals, in a sense, and you are quite right not to lose sight
of that fact. But as a detective, Rolfe, your methods lack polish.
Really, I blush for them. You might have known that I came over here to
see you to-night because I had an important object in view, and you
should have tried to find out what it was before playing your own
cards,--and such cards, too! You're sadly lacking in finesse, Rolfe.
You'd never make a chess player; your concealed intentions are too
easily discovered. You must try not to be so transparent if you want to
succeed in your profession."

Crewe delivered his reproof with such good humour that Rolfe stared at
him, as if unable to make out what his visitor was driving at.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Crewe," he said at length.

"Oh, yes, you do. You know I'm speaking about your latest move in the
Riversbrook case, which you've been so busy with of late. And I've come
to tell you in a friendly way that once more you're on the wrong track."

"What do you mean?" asked Rolfe quickly.

"Why, Princes Gate, of course," replied Crewe cheerily. "You don't
suppose that a fine-looking young man like yourself could be seen in the
neighbourhood of Princes Gate without causing a flutter among feminine
hearts there, do you?"

"So the servants have been talking, have they?" muttered Rolfe.

"They have and they haven't. But that's beside the point. What I want to
say is that you're on the wrong track in suspecting Mrs. Holymead, and I
strongly advise you to drop your inquiries if you don't want to get
yourself into hot water. She