hastised out of the park, was jealous of some one in respect of
the maid; but unfortunately unless one has a chance of cross-examining
the maid herself there is no way of proving whether Levison was the
unknown admirer who had excited her compatriot's jealousy."

"I'll take that in hand," came Enid's eager answer. "I often see Louise
when I am with Violet Maynard at the Manor. I'll pump the hussey as limp
as a punctured tyre the next time I'm over there, and it's sure to be in
a day or two."

Mr. Mallory patted his daughter's shoulder in mock encouragement. "Go
ahead, Miss Cocksure," he smiled at her. "But, if I am not mistaken,
you will find that Mademoiselle Louise carries too many guns for an
honest English craft like my little Enid. There! that's a nautical
simile suitable for a sailor's bride. Now run away to your golf and
leave an old fogey to worry the thing out as best he can. I am past the
age for personal adventures in disguise, or I should be sorely tempted
to explore The Hut in some other character than my own."

Enid pouted a little at the disparagement of her detective powers, and
then, after a dutiful peck at the clean-shaven paternal cheek,
shouldered her clubs and made for the garden gate. Half-way across the
lawn she wheeled round and shouted back--

"Don't wait lunch for me. Mona and I have arranged to have a snack on
the links and go out for another round in the afternoon."

Mr. Mallory nodded and turned to re-enter the house. As a resident at a
seaside resort where most people were engaged in amusing themselves, he
had grown accustomed to the ordinary meals being movable feasts,
sometimes omitted altogether so far as Enid was concerned. During the
summer months she would frequently disappear after breakfast, and not be
seen again till she arrived late but apologetic at the dinner table.
Even that important function was occasionally allowed to go by the board
when the popular little lady was intercepted on her way home and dragged
into some neighbour's house to spend the evening.

To-day, keen sportswoman though she was, Enid's thoughts were chained
quite as much by her father's self-imposed anxieties as by the game she
loved. Passing by the entrance gates of The Hut, she looked in vain up
the drive for any signs of the persons enumerated by her father as
probably connected with the case, and it was only when she had reached
the links on the breezy moor and had been duly chid by her waiting
fri