sive, well-dressed man, had
taken up his station and was casually loitering where he could see all
who entered or emerged from the Albany. Foyle himself was out of view,
but he had a fine sight of his subordinate. Ten minutes elapsed. The
well-dressed detective dropped the stick he was listlessly swinging
between his fingers, and Foyle knew that Sir Ralph had risen to the
bait. It remained to be found out whether the servant was still in the
chambers.

Waiting just long enough for Fairfield to get a reasonable distance
away, Foyle was whirled up in the lift to the baronet's rooms. His first
pressure on the bell remained unanswered, but at a second and longer
ring he was confronted by the upright figure of Roberts. The servant
gave a little gasp of astonishment as he saw his visitor.

"Sir Ralph is out, sir," he stammered.

"Yes, I know," said the detective pleasantly. "I did not come here to
see Sir Ralph, but to see you. You know who I am. Let me in, won't you?"

He pushed his way into the place and entered the sitting-room, Roberts
following closely behind him. The man was evidently very nervous. Foyle
sat down.

"Now, my man, you needn't feel nervous. Your master won't be back yet
awhile. You came to my office to see me this morning, and left before I
got back. I've come to see what this important information you've got
for me is."

Roberts shifted his weight from one foot to the other and rubbed his
hands together nervously. His eyes never met the superintendent's. "It's
all a mistake," he asserted unsteadily. "I--I----"

"That won't do, my man," said Foyle brusquely. "You know something which
it is important I should know. Sir Ralph has told you to keep your mouth
shut. But you're going to tell me before either of us leaves this room.
I want you to speak now. Never mind about thinking of a lie."

His blunt manner had its effect. Roberts drew himself together. "Right,
sir, I'll tell you what I came about. You're a gentleman and won't see
me a loser. Sir Ralph, he promised to look after me if I kept my mouth
shut."

It is no part of a detective's duty to allow personal feelings to
interfere with his business. Foyle's contempt for a man who was ready to
bargain to betray his master's confidence was sunk in his content at so
easily obtaining his ends. "That will be all right," he answered.
"You'll be paid according to the value of your information."

"Then it's this, sir," blurted out Roberts. "Mr. Grell, w