eceiving acknowledgment
from the other end of the wire.

He spoke again into the receiver and then handed the instrument across
the table to Tarling.

"It's for you," he said. "I think it is Scotland Yard."

Tarling put the receiver to his ear.

"It is Whiteside," said a voice. "Is that you, Mr. Tarling? We've found
the revolver."

"Where?" asked Tarling quickly.

"In the girl's flat," came the reply.

Tarling's face fell. But after all, that was nothing unexpected. He had
no doubt in his mind at all that the murder had been committed in Odette
Rider's flat, and, if that theory were accepted, the details were
unimportant, as there was no reason in the world why the pistol should
not be also found near the scene of the crime. In fact, it would have
been remarkable if the weapon had not been discovered on those premises.

"Where was it?" he asked.

"In the lady's work-basket," said Whiteside. "Pushed to the bottom and
covered with a lot of wool and odds and ends of tape."

"What sort of a revolver is it?" asked Tarling after a pause.

"A Colt automatic," was the reply. "There were six live cartridges in the
magazine and one in the breach. The pistol had evidently been fired, for
the barrel was foul. We've also found the spent bullet in the fireplace.
Have you found your Miss Stevens?"

"Yes," said Tarling quietly. "Miss Stevens is Odette Rider."

He heard the other's whistle of surprise.

"Have you arrested her?"

"Not yet," said Tarling. "Will you meet the next train in from Ashford?
I shall be leaving here in half an hour."

He hung up the receiver and turned to the doctor.

"I gather they've found the weapon," said the interested medico.

"Yes," replied Tarling, "they have found the weapon."

"Humph!" said the doctor, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "A pretty bad
business." He looked at the other curiously. "What sort of a man was
Thornton Lyne?" he asked.

Tarling shrugged his shoulders.

"Not the best of men, I'm afraid," he said; "but even the worst of men
are protected by the law, and the punishment which will fall to the
murderer----"

"Or murderess," smiled the doctor.

"Murderer," said Tarling shortly. "The punishment will not be affected by
the character of the dead man."

Dr. Saunders puffed steadily at his pipe.

"It's rum a girl like that being mixed up in a case of this description,"
he said. "Most extraordinary."

There was a little tap at the door and the matron appeared.