ave the roads patrolled and the
railway station warned. To have watched the Grange so effectively that
no one could get away from it would have taken a score or more of men,
and even so the position would have made it impossible for them to have
remained hidden.

All this Foyle reckoned on. He had hoped to find Grell and to catch him
unawares, perhaps asleep. That project had failed, and when the man had
replied to the woman's scream, Foyle had deemed the boldest course the
safest. Grell had wrenched himself round, the fist of his free hand
clenched, but he made no attempt to strike. An elderly woman sat up in
bed, surprise and terror in her face. Just behind Foyle stood two maids
in their night attire, shivering partly with cold, partly with fright,
their eyes wide open.

"That is my name," answered Grell, speaking as quietly as Foyle himself.
"I can guess who you are. If you will wait just a moment while I assure
these women that there is no need for alarm I will come down and talk
with you. You had better go to sleep again, Mrs. Ellis. And you girls
get back to bed. This is a friend of mine."

The maids retired reluctantly and Foyle linked his arm affectionately in
that of Grell. The alarm in the housekeeper's face did not abate.

"But who--who is he?" demanded Mrs. Ellis, extending a quivering finger
in the direction of the superintendent.

Grell lifted his shoulders. "Mrs. Ellis is my housekeeper here," he
explained to Foyle. "The maids didn't know I was in the place. It's all
right, Mrs. Ellis. I'll just have a chat with this gentleman. Don't you
worry."

He closed the door as he spoke. Foyle's right hand was resting in his
jacket pocket. "I may as well tell you, Mr. Grell," he said, "that I am
armed. If you make any attempt at resistance----"

"You will not dare to shoot," ejaculated Grell smilingly. "Oh, I know.
We're in England, not in the backwoods. Come downstairs and have a
drink. I don't want you to arrest me until we've had a talk. By the way,
may I ask your name?"

Despite himself the superintendent laughed. If Grell was a murderer he
certainly had coolness. But there might be some trick in the wind. He
was keenly on the alert.

"Foyle is my name," he answered--"Superintendent Foyle. I am afraid I
shall have to refuse that drink, and as for the talk, I may presently
determine to arrest you, so anything you say may be used as evidence. Of
course you know that."

"Yes, I know that. No objection