again, my dear."

They got up an hour later, both in a happy, cheerful mood. Bunting
rejoiced at the thought of his daughter's coming, and even Daisy's
stepmother told herself that it would be pleasant having the girl
about the house to help her a bit.

About ten o'clock Bunting went out to do some shopping. He brought
back with him a nice little bit of pork for Daisy's dinner, and
three mince-pies. He even remembered to get some apples for the
sauce.

CHAPTER VII

Just as twelve was striking a four-wheeler drew up to the gate.

It brought Daisy--pink-cheeked, excited, laughing-eyed Daisy--a
sight to gladden any father's heart.

"Old Aunt said I was to have a cab if the weather was bad," she
cried out joyously.

There was a bit of a wrangle over the fare. King's Cross, as all
the world knows, is nothing like two miles from the Marylebone Road,
but the man clamoured for one and sixpence, and hinted darkly that
he had done the young lady a favour in bringing her at all.

While he and Bunting were having words, Daisy, leaving them to it,
walked up the flagged path to the door where her stepmother was
awaiting her.

As they were exchanging a rather frigid kiss, indeed, 'twas a mere
peck on Mrs. Bunting's part, there fell, with startling suddenness,
loud cries on the still, cold air. Long-drawn and wailing, they
sounded strangely sad as they rose and fell across the distant roar
of traffic in the Edgware Road.

"What's that?" exclaimed Bunting wonderingly. "Why, whatever's
that?"

The cabman lowered his voice. "Them's 'a-crying out that 'orrible
affair at King's Cross. He's done for two of 'em this time! That's
what I meant when I said I might 'a got a better fare. I wouldn't
say nothink before little missy there, but folk 'ave been coming
from all over London the last five or six hours; plenty of toffs,
too--but there, there's nothing to see now!"

"What? Another woman murdered last night?"

Bunting felt tremendously thrilled. What had the five thousand
constables been about to let such a dreadful thing happen?

The cabman stared at him, surprised. "Two of 'em, I tell yer--
within a few yards of one another. He 'ave--got a nerve--But,
of course, they was drunk. He are got a down on the drink!"

"Have they caught him?" asked Bunting perfunctorily.

"Lord, no! They'll never catch 'im! It must 'ave happened hours
and hours ago--they was both stone cold. One each end of a little
passage what ain't u