ve married an
honest man who worshipped her; he treated her with quiet, infernal
cruelty; he robbed her and me of the small fortunes our father left
us."

"Ah!" said Spargo. "Well, so you say Maitland came to you, when he came
out of prison, to ask for his boy. Did he take the boy?"

"No--the boy was dead."

"Dead, eh? Then I suppose Maitland did not stop long with you?"

Miss Baylis laughed her scornful laugh.

"I showed him the door!" she said.

"Well, did he tell you that he was going to Australia?" enquired
Spargo.

"I should not have listened to anything that he told me, Mr. Spargo,"
she answered.

"Then, in short," said Spargo, "you never heard of him again?"

"I never heard of him again," she declared passionately, "and I only
hope that what you tell me is true, and that Marbury really was
Maitland!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MOTHER GUTCH

Spargo, having exhausted the list of questions which he had thought out
on his way to Bayswater, was about to take his leave of Miss Baylis,
when a new idea suddenly occurred to him, and he turned back to that
formidable lady.

"I've just thought of something else," he said. "I told you that I'm
certain Marbury was Maitland, and that he came to a sad end--murdered."

"And I've told you," she replied scornfully, "that in my opinion no end
could be too bad for him."

"Just so--I understand you," said Spargo. "But I didn't tell you that
he was not only murdered but robbed--robbed of probably a good deal.
There's good reason to believe that he had securities, bank notes,
loose diamonds, and other things on him to the value of a large amount.
He'd several thousand pounds when he left Coolumbidgee, in New South
Wales, where he'd lived quietly for some years."

Miss Baylis smiled sourly.

"What's all this to me?" she asked.

"Possibly nothing. But you see, that money, those securities, may be
recovered. And as the boy you speak of is dead, there surely must be
somebody who's entitled to the lot. It's worth having, Miss Baylis, and
there's strong belief on the part of the police that it will turn up."

This was a bit of ingenious bluff on the part of Spargo; he watched its
effect with keen eyes. But Miss Baylis was adamant, and she looked as
scornful as ever.

"I say again what's all that to me?" she exclaimed.

"Well, but hadn't the dead boy any relatives on his father's side?"
asked Spargo. "I know you're his aunt on the mother's side, and as
you're