ed of precisely
the same fraud, and more of it?" I inquired. "If I could steal the
things, so could he. If they're my pets, they may be his. And he was on
the spot, with a lot of workmen in his pay! Surely such circumstantial
evidence against him weighs more heavily in the scales than a mere scrap
of paper against me? I've written Sir Jim once or twice, by the way, on
business about the Abbey since I've been in Bath. All he'd have to do
would be to tear a letter up small enough, so it couldn't be pieced
together and make sense----"

"Nobody's weighing anything in scales against either of you--yet,"
soothed Mrs. Carstairs, "unless you're doing it against each other! But
we don't know what may happen. That's why it seemed best for you and Sir
James to come together and exchange blows--I mean, _views_!--at once. He
called my husband up by long-distance telephone early this morning, told
him what had happened, and had a pow-wow on ways and means. They decided
not to inform the police, but to save publicity and engage a private
detective. In fact, Sir J---- asked Henry to send a good man to the
Abbey by the quickest train. He went--the man, I mean, not Henry; and
the head of his firm ought to arrive at our flat in a few minutes now,
to meet you and Sir James."

"Sir James! Even a galloping cowboy can't be in London and Devonshire at
the same moment."

"Oh, I forgot to mention, he must have travelled up by _your_ train. I
suppose you didn't see him?"

"I did not!"

"He was probably in a smoking carriage. Well, anyhow, he'll soon be with
us."

"Stop the taxi!" I broke in; and stopped it myself by tapping on the
window behind the chauffeur.

"Good heavens! what's the matter?" gasped my companion.

"Nothing. I want to inquire the name of that firm of private detectives
Sir James Courtenaye got Mr. Carstairs to engage."

"Pemberton. You must have seen it advertised. But why stop the taxi to
ask that?"

"I stopped the taxi to get out, and let you run home alone while I find
another cab to take me to another detective. You see, I didn't want to
go to the same firm."

"Isn't one firm of detectives enough at one time, on one job?"

"It isn't one job. You're the shrewdest woman I know. You _must_ see
that James Courtenaye has engaged _his_ detective to spy upon me--to dog
my footsteps--to discover if I suddenly blossom out into untold
magnificence on ill-got gains. I intend to turn the tables on him, and
when I come b