JACK O' JUDGMENT

BY

EDGAR WALLACE

WARD, LOCK & CO. , LIMITED

LONDON AND MELBOURNE

_Made and Printed in Great Britain by_WARD, LOCK & CO. , LIMITED, LONDON. 

JACK O' JUDGMENT

POPULAR NOVELS

BY

EDGAR WALLACE

PUBLISHED BYWARD, LOCK & CO. , LIMITED. 

_In Various Editions_

SANDERS OF THE RIVERBONESBOSAMBO OF THE RIVERBONES IN LONDONTHE KEEPERS OF THE KING'S PEACETHE COUNCIL OF JUSTICETHE DUKE IN THE SUBURBSTHE PEOPLE OF THE RIVERDOWN UNDER DONOVANPRIVATE SELBYTHE ADMIRABLE CARFEWTHE MAN WHO BOUGHT LONDONTHE JUST MEN OF CORDOVATHE SECRET HOUSEKATE, PLUS TENLIEUTENANT BONESTHE ADVENTURES OF HEINEJACK O' JUDGMENTTHE DAFFODIL MYSTERYTHE NINE BEARSTHE BOOK OF ALL POWERMR. JUSTICE MAXELLTHE BOOKS OF BARTTHE DARK EYES OF LONDONCHICKSANDI, THE KING-MAKERTHE THREE OAK MYSTERYTHE FELLOWSHIP OF THE FROGBLUE HANDGREY TIMOTHYA DEBT DISCHARGEDTHOSE FOLK OF BULBORO'THE MAN WHO WAS NOBODYTHE GREEN RUSTTHE FOURTH PLAGUETHE RIVER OF STARS

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

 I. --THE KNAVE OF CLUBS 7 II. --JACK O' JUDGMENT--HIS CARD 14 III. --THE DECOY 24 IV. --THE MISSING HANSON 28 V. --IN THE MAGISTRATE'S COURT 35 VI. --STAFFORD KING RESIGNS 42 VII. --THE COLONEL CONDUCTS HIS BUSINESS 48 VIII. --THE LISTENER AT THE DOOR 54 IX. --THE COLONEL EMPLOYS A DETECTIVE 61 X. --THE GREEK PHILLOPOLIS 67 XI. --THE COLONEL AT SCOTLAND YARD 71 XII. --BUYING A NURSING HOME 80 XIII. --THE LOVE OF STAFFORD KING 84 XIV. --THE TAKING OF MAISIE WHITE 88 XV. --THE COMMISSIONER HAS A THEORY 92 XVI. --IN THE TURKISH BATHS 96 XVII. --SOLOMON COMES BACK 100 XVIII. --THE JUDGMENT OF DEATH 106 XIX. --THE COLONEL IS SHOCKED 111 XX. --"SWELL" CREWE BACKS OUT 119 XXI. --THE BRIDE OF DEATH 123 XXII. --MAISIE TELLS HER STORY 126 XXIII. --THE GANG FUND 134 XXIV. --PINTO GOES NORTH 141 XXV. --A PATRON OF CHARITY 150 XXVI. --THE SOLDIER WHO FOLLOWED 157 XXVII. --THE CAPTURE OF "JACK" 162 XXVIII. --THE PASSING OF PHILLOPOLIS 169 XXIX. --THE VOICE IN THE ROOM 178 XXX. --DIAMONDS FOR THE BANK 186 XXXI. --THE VOICE AGAIN 194 XXXII. --LOLLIE GOES AWAY 201 XXXIII. --WHERE THE VOICE LIVED 205 XXXIV. --CONSCIENCE MONEY 210 XXXV. --IN A BOX AT THE ORPHEUM 217 XXXVI. --LOLLIE PROPOSES 224 XXXVII. --THE FALL OF PINTO 229XXXVIII. --A USE FOR OLD FILMS 234 XXXIX. --JACK O' JUDGMENT REVEALED 244

JACK O' ... JUDGMENT

CHAPTER I

THE KNAVE OF CLUBS

They picked up the young man called "Snow" Gregory from a Lambethgutter, and he was dead before the policeman on point duty in WaterlooRoad, who had heard the shots, came upon the scene. 

He had been shot in his tracks on a night of snow and storm and none sawthe murder. 

When they got him to the mortuary and searched his clothes they foundnothing except a little tin box of white powder which proved to becocaine, and a playing card--the Jack of Clubs!

His associates had called him "Snow" Gregory because he was a doper, andcocaine is invariably referred to as "snow" by all its votaries. He wasa gambler too, and he had been associated with Colonel Dan Boundary incertain of his business enterprises. That was all. The colonel knewnothing of the young man's antecedents except that he had been an Oxfordman who had come down in the world. The colonel added a few particularsdesigned, as it might seem to the impartial observer, to prove that he, the colonel, had ever been an uplifting quantity. (This colonelcy was anhonorary title which he held by custom rather than by law. )

There were people who said that "Snow" Gregory, in his more exaltedmoments, talked too much for the colonel's comfort, but people were veryready to talk unkindly of the colonel, whose wealth was an offence and ashame. 

So they buried "Snow" Gregory, the unknown, and a jury of hisfellow-countrymen returned a verdict of "Wilful murder against someperson or persons unknown. "

And that was the end of a sordid tragedy, it seemed, until three monthslater there dawned upon Colonel Boundary's busy life a brand new andalarming factor. 

One morning there arrived at his palatial flat in Albemarle Place aletter. This he opened because it was marked "Private and Personal. " Itwas not a letter at all--as it proved--but a soiled and stained playingcard, the Knave of Clubs. 

He looked at the thing in perplexity, for the fate of his erstwhileassistant had long since passed from his mind. Then he saw writing onthe margin of the card, and twisting it sideways read:

 "JACK O' JUDGMENT. "

Nothing more!

"Jack o' Judgment!"

The colonel screwed up his tired eyes as if to shut out a vision. 

"Faugh!" he said in disgust and dropped the pasteboard into hiswaste-paper basket. 

For he had seen a vision--a white face, unshaven and haggard, its lipsparted in a little grin, the smile of "Snow" Gregory on the last timethey had met. 

Later came other cards and unpleasant, not to say disconcertinghappenings, and the colonel, taking counsel with himself, determined tokill two birds with one stone. 

It was a daring and audacious thing to have done, and none but ColonelDan Boundary would have taken the risk. He knew better than anybody elsethat Stafford King had devoted the whole of his time for the past threeyears to smashing the Boundary Gang. He knew that this grave young manwith the steady, grey eyes, who sat on the other side of the big LouisXV table in the ornate private office of the Spillsbury Syndicate, hadwon his way to the chief position in the Criminal IntelligenceDepartment by sheer genius, and that he was, of all men, the most to befeared. 

No greater contrast could be imagined than that which was presentedbetween the two protagonists--the refined, almost æsthetic chief ofpolice on the one hand, the big commanding figure of the redoubtablecolonel on the other. 

Boundary with his black hair parted in the centre of his sleek head, hisbig weary eyes, his long, yellow walrus moustache, his double chin, hisbreadth and girth, his enormous hairy hands, now laid upon the table, might stand for force, brutal, remorseless, untiring. He stood forcunning too--the cunning of the stalking tiger. 

Stafford was watching him with dispassionate interest. He may have beensecretly amused at the man's sheer daring, but if he was, hisinscrutable face displayed no such emotion. 

"I dare say, Mr. King, " said the colonel, in his slow, heavy way, "youthink it is rather remarkable in all the circumstances that I should askfor you? I dare say, " he went on, "my business associates will think thesame, considering all the unpleasantness we have had. "

Stafford King made no reply. He sat erect, alert and watchful. 

"Give a dog a bad name and hang him, " said the colonel sententiously. "For twenty years I've had to fight the unjust suspicions of my enemies. I've been libelled, " he shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't supposethere's anybody been libelled more than me--and my business associates. I've had the police nosing--I mean investigating--into my affairs, andI'll be straight with you, Mr. Stafford King, and tell you that when itcame to my ears and the ears of my business associates, that you hadbeen put on the job of watching poor old Dan Boundary, I was glad. "

"Is that intended as a compliment?" asked Stafford, with the faintestsuspicion of a smile. 

"Every way, " said the colonel emphatically. "In the first place, Mr. King, I know that you are the straightest and most honest policeofficial in England, and possibly in the world. All I want is justice. My life is an open book, which courts the fullest investigation. "

He spread out his huge hands as though inviting an even closerinspection than had been afforded him hitherto. 

Mr. Stafford King made no reply. He knew, very well he knew, the storieswhich had been told about the Boundary Gang. He knew a little andguessed a lot about its extraordinary ramifications. He was well aware, at any rate, that it was rich, and that this slow-speaking man couldcommand millions. But he was far from desiring to endorse the colonel'sinferred claim as to the purity of his business methods. 

He leant a little forward. 

"I am sure you didn't send for me to tell me all about your hard lot, colonel, " he said, a little ironically. 

The colonel shook his head. 

"I wanted to get to know you, " he said with fine frankness. "I've hearda lot about you, Mr. King. I am told you do nothing but specialise onthe Boundary enterprises, and I tell you, sir, that you can't know toomuch about me, nor can I know too much about you. "

He paused. 

"But you're quite right when you say that I didn't ask you to comehere--and a great honour it is for a big police chief to spare time tosee me--to discuss the past. It is the present I want to talk to youabout. "

Stafford King nodded. 

"I'm a law-abiding citizen, " said the colonel unctuously, "and anythingI can do to assist the law, why, I'm going to do it. I wrote you on thismatter about a fortnight ago. "

He opened a drawer and took out a large envelope embossed with amonogram of the Spillsbury Syndicate. This he opened and extracted aplain playing-card. It was a white-backed card of superfine texture, gilt-edged, and bore a familiar figure. 

"The Knave of Clubs, " said Stafford King lifting his eyes. 

"The Jack of Clubs, " said the colonel gravely; "that is its name Iunderstand, for I am not a gambling man. "

He did not bat a lid nor did Stafford King smile. 

"I remember, " said the detective chief, "you received one before. Youwrote to my department about it. "

The colonel nodded. 

"Read what's written underneath. "

King lifted the card nearer to his eyes. The writing was almostmicroscopic and read:

"Save crime, save worry, save all unpleasantness. Give back the propertyyou stole from Spillsbury. "

It was signed "Jack o' Judgment. "

King put the card down and looked across at the colonel. 

"What happened after the last card came?" he asked, "there was aburglary or something, wasn't there?"

"The last card, " said the colonel, clearing his throat, "contained adiabolical and unfounded charge that I and my business associates hadrobbed Mr. George Fetter, the Manchester merchant, of £60, 000 by meansof card tricks--a low practice of which I would not be guilty nor wouldany of my business associates. My friends and myself knowing nothing ofany card game, we of course refused to pay Mr. Fetter, and I am sure Mr. Fetter would be the last person who would ask us to do so. As a matterof fact, he did give us bills for £60, 000, but that was in relation to asale of property. I cannot imagine that Mr. Fetter would ever take moneyfrom us or that he knew of this business--I hope not, because he seems avery respectable--gentleman. "

The detective looked at the card again. 

"What is this story of the Spillsbury deal?" he asked. 

"What is that story of the Spillsbury deal?" said the colonel. 

He had a trick of repeating questions--it was a trick which frequentlygave him a very necessary breathing space. 

"Why, there's nothing to it. I bought the motor works in Coventry. Iadmit it was a good bargain. There's no law against making a profit. Youknow what business is. "

The detective knew what business was. But Spillsbury was young and wild, and his wildness assumed an unpleasant character. It was the kind ofwildness which people do not talk about--at least, not nice people. Hehad inherited a considerable fortune, and the control of four factories, the best of which was the one under discussion. 

"I know Spillsbury, " said the detective, "and I happen to knowSpillsbury's works. I also know that he sold you a property worth£300, 000 in the open market for a sum which was grosslyinadequate--£30, 000, was it not?"

"£35, 000, " corrected the colonel. "There's no law against making abargain, " he repeated. 

"You've been very fortunate with your bargains. "

Stafford King rose and picked up his hat. 

"You bought Transome's Hotel from young Mrs. Rachemeyer for a sum whichwas less than a twentieth of its worth. You bought Lord Bethon's slatequarries for £12, 000--their value in the open market was at least£100, 000. For the past fifteen years you have been acquiring property atan amazing rate--and at an amazing price. "

The colonel smiled. 

"You're paying me a great compliment, Mr. Stafford King, " he said with atouch of sarcasm, "and I will never forget it. But don't let us get awayfrom the object of your coming. I am reporting to you, as a policeofficer, that I have been threatened by a blackguard, a thief, and verylikely a murderer. I will not be responsible for any action I maytake--Jack o' Judgment indeed!" he growled. 

"Have you ever seen him?" asked Stafford. 

The colonel frowned. 

"He's alive, ain't he?" he growled. "If I'd seen him, do you think he'dbe writing me letters? It is your job to pinch him. If you people downat Scotland Yard spent less time poking into the affairs of honestbusiness men----"

Stafford King was smiling now, frankly and undisguisedly. His grey eyeswere creased with silent laughter. 

"Colonel, you have _some_ nerve!" he said admiringly, and with no otherword he left the room. 

CHAPTER II

JACK O' JUDGMENT--HIS CARD

The wrong side of a stage door was the outside on a night such as thiswas. The rain was bucketing down and a chill north-wester howled up thenarrow passage leading from the main street to the tiny entry. 

But the outside, and the darkest corner of the _cul-de-sac_ whence thestage door of the Orpheum Music Hall was reached, satisfied StaffordKing. He drew further into the shadow at sight of the figure whichpicked a finicking way along the passage and paused only at the opendoorway to furl his umbrella. 

Pinto Silva, immaculately attired with a white rose in the button-holeof his faultless dress-jacket, had no doubt in his mind as to which wasthe most desirable side of the stage door. He passed in, noddingcarelessly to the doorkeeper. 

"A rotten night, Joe, " he said. "Miss White hasn't gone yet, has she?"

"No, sir, " said the man obsequiously, "she's only just left the stage afew minutes. Shall I tell her you're here, sir?"

Pinto shook his head. 

He was a good-looking man of thirty-five. There were some who would gofurther and describe him as handsome, though his peculiar style of goodlooks might not be to everybody's taste. The olive complexion, the blackeyes, the well-curled moustache and the effeminate chin had theirattractions, and Pinto Silva admitted modestly in his reminiscentmoments that there were women who had raved about him. 

"Miss White is in No. 6, " said the doorkeeper. "Shall I send somebodyalong to tell her you're here?"

"You needn't trouble, " said the other, "she won't be long now. "

The girl, hurrying along the corridor, fastening her coat as she came, stopped dead at the sight of him and a look of annoyance came to herface. She was tall for a girl, perfectly proportioned and something morethan pretty. 

Pinto lifted his hat with a smile. 

"I've just been in front, Miss White. An excellent performance!"

"Thank you, " she said simply. "I did not see you. "

He nodded. 

There was a complacency in his nod which irritated her. It almost seemedto infer that she was not speaking the truth and that he was humouringher in her deception. 

"You're quite comfortable?" he asked. 

"Quite, " she replied politely. 

She was obviously anxious to end the interview, and at a loss as to howshe could. 

"Dressing room comfortable, everybody respectful and all that sort ofthing?" he asked. "Just say the word, if they give you trouble or cheek, and I'll have them kicked out whoever they are, from the managerdownwards. "

"Oh, thank you, " she said hurriedly, "everybody is most polite andnice. " She held out her hand. "I am afraid I must go now. A--a friend iswaiting for me. "

"One minute, Miss White. " He licked his lips, and there was anunaccustomed embarrassment in his manner. "Maybe you'll come along onenight after the show and have a little supper. You know I'm very keen onyou and all that sort of thing. "

"I know you're very keen on me and all that sort of thing, " said MaisieWhite, a note of irony in her voice, "but unfortunately I'm not verykeen on supper and all that sort of thing. "

She smiled and again held out her hand. 

"I'll say good night now. "

"Do you know, Maisie----" he began. 

"Good night, " she said and brushed past him. 

He looked after her as she disappeared into the darkness, a little frowngathering on his forehead, then with a shrug of his shoulders he walkedslowly back to the doorkeeper's office. 

"Send somebody to get my car, " he snapped. 

He waited impatiently, chewing his cigar, till the dripping figure ofthe doorkeeper reappeared with the information that the car was at theend of the passage. He put up his umbrella and walked through thepelting rain to where his limousine stood. 

Pinto Silva was angry, and his anger was of the hateful, smoulderingtype which grew in strength from moment to moment and from hour to hour. How dare she treat him like this? She, who owed her engagement to hisinfluence, and whose fortune and future were in his hands. He wouldspeak to the colonel and the colonel could speak to her father. He hadhad enough of this. 

He recognised with a start that he was afraid of the girl. It wasincredible, but it was true. He had never felt that way to a womanbefore, but there was something in her eyes, a cold disdain which cowedeven as it maddened him. 

The car drew up before a block of buildings in a deserted West Endthoroughfare. He flashed on the electric light and saw that the hour wasa little after eleven. The last thing in the world he wanted was to takepart in a conference that night. But if he wanted anything less, it wasto cross the colonel at this moment of crisis. 

He walked through the dark vestibule and entered an automatic lift, which carried him to the third floor. Here, the landing and the corridorwere illuminated by one small electric lamp sufficient to light him tothe heavy walnut doors which led to the office of the SpillsburySyndicate. He opened the door with a latchkey and found himself in a biglobby, carpeted and furnished in good style. 

A man was sitting before a radiator, a paper pad upon his knees, and hewas making notes with a pencil. He looked up startled as the otherentered and nodded. It was Olaf Hanson, the colonel's clerk--and Olaf, with his flat expressionless face, and his stiff upstanding hair, alwaysreminded Pinto of a Struwwelpeter which had been cropped. 

"Hullo, Hanson, is the colonel inside?"

The man nodded. 

"They're waiting for you, " he said. 

His voice was hard and unsympathetic, and his thin lips snapped outevery syllable. 

"Aren't you coming in?" asked Pinto in surprise, his hand upon the door. 

The man called Hanson shook his head. 

"I've got to go to the colonel's flat, " he said, "to get some papers. Besides, they don't want me. "

He smiled quickly and wanly. It was a grimace rather than an expressionof amusement and Pinto eyed him narrowly. He had, however, the goodsense to ask no further questions. Turning the handle of the door, hewalked into the large, ornate apartment. 

In the centre of the room was a big table and the chairs at its sideswere, for the most part, filled. 

He dropped into a seat on the colonel's right and nodded to the othersat the table. Most of the principals were there--"Swell" Crewe, Jackson, Cresswell, and at the farther end of the table, Lollie Marsh with herbaby face and her permanent expression of open-mouthed wonder. 

"Where's White?" he asked. 

The colonel was reading a letter and did not immediately reply. Presently he took off his pince-nez and put them into his pocket. 

"Where's White?" he repeated. "White isn't here. No, White isn't here, "he repeated significantly. 

"What's wrong?" asked Pinto quickly. 

The colonel scratched his chin and looked up to the ceiling. 

"I'm settling up this Spillsbury business, " he said. "White isn't init. "

"Why not?" asked Pinto. 

"He never was in it, " said the colonel evasively. "It was not the kindof business that White would like to be in. I guess he's gettingreligious or something, or maybe it's that daughter of his. "

The eyelids of Pinto Silva narrowed at the reference to Maisie White andhe was on the point of remarking that he had just left her, but changedhis mind. 

"Does she know anything about--about her father?" he asked. 

The colonel smiled. 

"Why, no--unless you've told her. "

"I'm not on those terms, " said Pinto savagely. "I'm getting tired ofthat girl's airs and graces, colonel, after what we've done for her!"

"You'll get tireder, Pinto, " said a voice from the end of the table andhe turned round to meet the laughing eyes of Lollie Marsh. 

"What do you mean?" he asked. 

"I've been out taking a look at her to-day, " she said, and the colonelscowled at her. 

"You were out taking a look at something else if I remember rightly, " hesaid quietly. "I told you to get after Stafford King. "

"And I got after him, " she said, "and after the girl too. "

"What do you mean?"

"That's a bit of news for you, isn't it?" She was delighted to drop thebombshell: "you can't shadow Stafford King without crossing the tracksof Maisie White. "

The colonel uttered an exclamation. 

"What do you mean?" he asked again. 

"Didn't you know they were acquainted? Didn't you know that StaffordKing goes down to Horsham to see her, and takes her to dinner twice aweek?"

They looked at one another in consternation. Maisie White was thedaughter of a man who, next to the colonel, had been the most daringmember of the gang, who had organised more coups than any other man, save its leader. The news that the daughter of Solomon White was meetingthe Chief of the Criminal Intelligence Department, was incredible andstunning. 

"So that's it, is it?" said the colonel, licking his dry lips. "That'swhy Solomon White's fed up with the life and wants to break away. "

He turned to Pinto Silva, whose face was set and hard. 

"I thought you were keen on that girl, Pinto, " he said coarsely. "Weleft the way open to you. What do you know about it?"

"Nothing, " said the man shortly. "I don't believe it. "

"Don't believe it, " broke in the girl. "Listen! There was a matinée atthe Orpheum to-day and King went there. I followed him in and got a seatnext to him and tried to get friendly. But he had only eyes for the girlon the stage, and I might as well have been the paper on the wall forall the notice he took of me. After her turn, he went out and waited forher at the stage door. They went to Roymoyers for tea. I went back tothe theatre and saw her dresser. She is the woman I recommended whenPinto put her on the stage. "

"What sort of work is Maisie doing?" asked the saturnine Crewe. 

"Male impersonations, " said the girl. "Say! she looks dandy in a man'skit! She's the best male impersonator I've ever seen. Why, when shetalks----"

"Never mind about that, " interrupted the colonel, "what did youdiscover?"

"I discovered that Stafford King comes regularly to the theatre, that hetakes her to dinner and that he visits the house at Horsham. "

"Solly never told me that--the swine!" rapped the colonel, "he's goingto double-cross us, that fellow. "

"I don't believe it. "

It was Crewe that spoke. "Swell" Crewe, whose boast it was that he hada suit for every day in the year. 

"I know Solomon and I've known him for years, " he said. "I know him aswell as you, colonel. As far as we are concerned, Solly is straight. I'mnot denying the possibility that he wants to break away, but that's onlynatural. He's a man with a daughter, and he's made his pile, but I'llstake my life that he'll never double-cross us. "

"Double-cross us?" the colonel had recovered his wonted equanimity. "What has he to 'double-cross'?" he demanded almost jovially. "We have astraightforward business! I am not aware that any of us are guilty ofdishonest actions. Double-cross! Bah!"

He brought his big hand down with a thump on the table, and they knewfrom experience that this was the gavel of the chairman that ended alldiscussions. 

"Now, gentlemen, " said the colonel, "let us get to business. Ask Hansonto come in--he's got the figures. It is the last lot of figures of oursthat he'll ever handle, " he added. 

Somebody went to the door of the ante-room and called the secretary, butthere was no reply. 

"He's gone out. "

"Gone out?" said the colonel and bent his brows. "Who told him to goout? Never mind, he'll be back in a minute. Shut the door. "

He lifted a deed-box from the floor at his feet, placed it on the table, opened it with a key attached to his watch-chain and removed a bundle ofdocuments. 

"We're going to settle the Spillsbury business to-night, " he said. "Spillsbury looks like squealing. "

"Where is he?" asked Pinto. 

"In an inebriates' home, " said the colonel grimly; "it seems there aresome trustees to his father's estate who are likely to question thelegality of the transfers. But I've had the best legal opinion in Londonand there is no doubt that our position is safe. The only thing we'vegot to do to-night is to make absolutely sure that all those foolletters he wrote to Lollie have been destroyed. "

"You've got them?" said the girl quickly. 

"I had them?" said the colonel, "and I burnt them all except one whenthe transfer was completed. And the question is, gentlemen, " he said, "shall we burn the last?"

He took from the bundle before him an envelope and held it up. 

"I kept this in case there was anything coming, but if he's in a boozehome, why, he's not going to be influenced by the threat of publishing aslushy letter to a girl. I guess his trustees are not going to be verymuch influenced either. On the other hand, if this letter were foundamong business documents, it would look pretty bad for us. "

"Found by whom?" asked Pinto. 

"By the police, " said the colonel calmly. 

"Police?"

The colonel nodded. 

"They're getting after us, but you needn't be alarmed, " he said. "Kingis working to get a case, and he is not above applying for a searchwarrant. But I'm not scared of the police so much. " His voice slowed andhe spoke with greater emphasis. "I guess there are enough court cards inthe Boundary pack to beat that combination. It's the Jack----"

"_The Jack--ha! ha! ha!_"

It was a shrill bubble of laughter which cut into his speech and thecolonel leapt to his feet, his hand dropping to his hip-pocket. The doorhad opened and closed so silently that none had heard it, and a figurestood confronting them. 

It was clad from head to foot in a long coat of black silk, whichshimmered in the half-light of the electrolier. The hands were gloved, the head covered with a soft slouch hat and the face hidden behind awhite silk handkerchief. 

The colonel's hand was in his hip-pocket when he thought better andraised both hands in the air. There was something peculiarlybusinesslike in the long-barrelled revolver which the intruder held, inspite of the silver-plating and the gold inlay along the chased barrel. 

"Everybody's hands in the air, " said the Jack shrilly, "right up to thebeautiful sky! Yours too, Lollie. Stand away from the table, everybody, and back to the wall. For the Jack o' Judgment is amongst you and lifeis full of amazing possibilities!"

They backed from the table, peering helplessly at the two unwinking eyeswhich showed through the holes in the handkerchief. 

"Back to the wall, my pretties, " chuckled the Thing. "I'm going to makeyou laugh and you'll want some support. I'm going to make you rock withjoy and merriment!"

The figure had moved to the table, and all the time it spoke its nimblefingers were turning over the piles of documents which the colonel haddisgorged from the dispatch box. 

"I'm going to tell you a comical tale about a gang of blackmailers. "

"You're a liar, " said the colonel hoarsely. 

"About a gang of blackmailers, " said the Jack with shrill laughter, "fellows who didn't work like common blackmailers, nor demand money. Oh, no! not naughty blackmailers! They got the fools and the vicious intheir power and made them sell things for hundreds of pounds that wereworth thousands. And they were such a wonderful crowd! They were suchwonderfully amusing fellows. There was Dan Boundary who started life byrobbing his dead mother, there was 'Swell' Crewe, who was once agentleman and is now a thief!"

"Damn you!" said Crewe, lurching forward, but the gun swung round on himand he stopped. 

"There was Lollie who would sell her own child----"

"I have no child, " half-screamed the girl. 

"Think again, Lollie darling--dear little soul!"

He stopped. The envelope that his fingers had been seeking was found. He slipped it beneath the black silk cloak and in two bounds was at thedoor. 

"Send for the police, " he mocked. "Send for the police, Dan! GetStafford King, the eminent chief. Tell him I called! My card!"

With a dexterous flip of his fingers he sent a little pasteboard planingacross the room. In an instant the door opened and closed upon theintruder and he was gone. 

For a second there was silence, and then, with a little sob, LollieMarsh collapsed in a heap on the floor. Colonel Dan Boundary looked fromone white face to the other. 

"There's a hundred thousand pounds for any one of you who gets thatfellow, " he said, breathing hard, "whether it is man or woman. "

CHAPTER III

THE DECOY

Colonel Boundary, sitting at his desk the morning after, pushed a bell. It was answered by the thick-set Olaf. He was dressed, as usual, inblack from head to foot and the colonel eyed him thoughtfully. 

"Hanson, " he said, "has Miss Marsh come?"

"Yes, she has come, " said the other resentfully. 

"Tell her I want her, " said the colonel and then as the man was leavingthe room: "Where did you get to last night when I wanted you?"

"I was out, " said the man shortly. "I get some time for myself, Isuppose?"

The colonel nodded slowly. 

"Sure you do, Hanson. "

His tone was mild, and that spelt danger to Hanson, had he known it. This was the third sign of rebellion which the man had shown in the pastweek. 

"What's happened to your temper this morning, Hanson?" he asked. 

"Everything, " exploded the man and in his agitation his foreign originwas betrayed by his accent. "You tell me I shall haf plenty money, thousands of pounds! You say I go to my brother in America. Where is dotmoney? I go in March, I go in May, I go in July, still I am here!"

"My good friend, " said the colonel, "you're too impatient. This is not amoment I can allow you to go away. You're getting nervous, that's what'sthe matter with you. Perhaps I'll let you have a holiday next week. "

"Nervous!" roared the man. "Yes, I am. All the time I feel eyes on me!When I walk in the street, every man I meet is a policeman. When I go tobed, I hear nothing but footsteps creeping in the passage outside myroom. "

"Old Jack, eh?" said the colonel, eyeing him narrowly. 

Hanson shivered. 

He had seen the Jack o' Judgment once. A figure in gossamer silk who hadstood beside the bed in which the Scandinavian lay and had talked wisdomwhilst Olaf quaked in a muck sweat of fear. 

The colonel did not know this. He was under the impression that theappearance of the previous night had constituted the first of thismysterious menace. 

So he nodded again. 

"Send Miss Marsh to me, " he said. 

Hanson would have got on his nerves if he had nerves. The man, at anyrate, was becoming an intolerable nuisance. The colonel marked him downas one of the problems calling for early solution. 

The secretary had not been gone more than a few seconds before the dooropened again and the girl came in. She was tall, pretty in a doll-likeway, with an aura of golden hair about her small head. She might havebeen more than pretty but for her eyes, which were too light a shade ofblue to be beautiful. She was expensively gowned and walked with theeasy swing of one whose position was assured. 

"Good morning, Lollie, " said the colonel. "Did you see him again?"

She nodded. 

"I got a pretty good view of him, " she said. 

"Did he see you?"

She smiled. 

"I don't think so, " she said; "besides, what does it matter if he did?"

"Was the girl with him?"

She shook her head. 

"Well?" asked the colonel after a pause. "Can you do anything with him?"

She pursed her lips. 

If she had expected the colonel to refer to their terrifying experienceof the night before, she was to be disappointed. The hard eyes of theman compelled her to keep to the matter under discussion. 

"He looks pretty hard, " said the girl. "He is not the man to fall forthat heart-to-heart stuff. "

"What do you mean?" asked the colonel. 

"Just that, " said the girl with a shrug. "I can't imagine his picking meup and taking me to dinner and pouring out the secrets of his youngheart at the second bottle. "

"Neither can I, " said the colonel thoughtfully. "You're a pretty clevergirl, Lollie, and I'm going to make it worth your while to get close tothat fellow. He's the one man in Scotland Yard that we want to put outof business. Not that we've anything to be afraid of, " he added vaguely, "but he's just interfering with----"

He paused for a word. 

"With business, " said the girl. "Oh, come off it, colonel! Just tell mehow far you want me to go. "

"You've got to go to the limit, " said the other decidedly. "You've gotto put him as wrong as you can. He must be compromised up to his neck. "

"What about my young reputation?" asked the girl with a grimace. 

"If you lose it, we'll buy you another, " said the colonel drily, "and Ireckon it's about time you had another one, Lollie. "

The girl fingered her chin thoughtfully. 

"It is not going to be easy, " she said again. "It isn't going to be likeyoung Spillsbury--Pinto Silva could have done that job without help--orSolomon White even. "

"You can shut up about Spillsbury, " growled the colonel. "I've told youto forget everything that has ever happened in our business! And I'vetold you a hundred times not to mention Pinto or any of the other men inthis business! You can do as you're told! And take that look off yourface!"

He rose with extraordinary agility and leant over, glowering at thegirl. 

"You've been getting a bit too fresh lately, Lollie, and giving yourselfairs! You don't try any of that grand lady stuff with me, d'ye hear?"

There was nothing suave in the colonel's manner, nothing slow orponderous or courtly. He spoke rapidly and harshly and revealed thebrute that many suspected but few knew. 

"I've no more respect for women than I have for men, understand! If youever get gay with me, I'll take your neck in my hand like that, " heclenched his two fists together with a horribly suggestive motion andthe frightened girl watched him, fascinated. "I'll break you as if youwere a bit of china! I'll tear you as if you were a rag! You needn'tthink you'll ever get away from me--I'll follow you to the ends of theearth. You're paid like a queen and treated like a queen and you playstraight--there was a man called 'Snow' Gregory once----"

The trembling girl was on her feet now, her face ashen white. 

"I'm sorry, colonel, " she faltered. "I didn't intend giving you offence. I--I----"

She was on the verge of tears when the colonel, with a quick gesture, motioned her back to the chair. His rage subsided as suddenly as it hadrisen. 

"Now do as you're told, Lollie, " he said calmly. "Get after that youngfellow and don't come back to me until you've got him. "

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and almost tiptoed from hisdread presence. 

At the door he stopped her. 

"As to Maisie, " he said, "why, you can leave Maisie to me. "

CHAPTER IV

THE MISSING HANSON

Colonel Dan Boundary descended slowly from the Ford taxi-cab which hadbrought him up from Horsham station and surveyed without emotion thedomicile of his partner. It was Colonel Boundary's boast that he was inthe act of lathering his face on the tenth floor of a Californian hotelwhen the earthquake began, and that he finished his shaving operations, took his bath and dressed himself before the earth had ceased totremble. 

"I shall want you again, so you had better wait, " he said to the driverand passed through the wooden gates toward Rose Lodge. 

He stopped half-way up the path, having now a better view of the house. It was a red brick villa, the home of a well-to-do man. The trim lawnwith its border of rose trees, the little fountain playing over therockery, the quality of the garden furniture within view and the generalair of comfort which pervaded the place, suggested the home of aprosperous City man, one of those happy creatures who have nevertroubled to get themselves in line for millions, but have lived happilybetween the four and five figure mark. 

Colonel Boundary grunted and continued his walk. A trim maid opened thedoor to him and by her blank look it was evident that he was not afrequent visitor. 

"Boundary--just say Boundary, " said the colonel in a deep voice whichcarried to the remotest part of the house. 

He was shown to the drawing-room and again found much that interestedhim. He felt no twinge of pity at the thought that Solomon White wouldvery soon exchange this almost luxury for the bleak discomfort of aprison cell, and not even the sight of the girl who came through thedoor to greet him brought him a qualm. 

"You want to see my father, colonel?" she asked. 

Her tone was cold but polite. The colonel had never been a greatfavourite of Maisie White's, and now it required a considerable efforton her part to hide her deep aversion. 

"Do I want to see your father?" said Colonel Boundary. "Why, yes, Ithink I do and I want to see you too, and I'd just as soon see youfirst, before I speak to Solly. "

She sat down, a model of patient politeness, her hands folded on herlap. In the light of day she was pretty, straight of back, graceful asto figure and the clear grey eyes which met his faded blue, were veryunderstanding. 

"Miss White, " he said, "we have been very good to you. "

"We?" repeated the girl. 

"We, " nodded the colonel. "I speak for myself and my businessassociates. If Solomon had ever told you the truth you would know thatyou owe all your education, your beautiful home, " he waved his hand, "tomyself and my business associates. " His tongue rolled round the last twowords. They were favourites of his. 

She nodded her head slightly. 

"I was under the impression that I owed it to my father, " she said, witha hint of irony in her voice, "for I suppose that he earned all he has. "

"You suppose that he earned all that he has?" repeated the colonel. "Well, very likely you are right. He has earned more than he has got butpay-day is near at hand. "

There was no mistaking the menace in his tone, but the girl made nocomment. She knew that there had been trouble. She knew that her fatherhad for days been locked in his study and had scarcely spoken a word toanybody. 

"I saw you the other night, " said the colonel, changing the directionof his attack. "I saw you at the Orpheum. Pinto Silva came with me. Wewere in the stage box. "

"I saw you, " said the girl quietly. 

"A very good performance, considering you're a kid, " said Boundary; "infact, Pinto says you're the best mimic he has ever seen on thestage----" He paused--"Pinto got you your contracts. "

She nodded. 

"I am very grateful to Mr. Silva, " she said. 

"You have all the world before you, my girl, " said Boundary in his slow, ponderous way, "a beautiful and bright future, plenty of money, pearls, diamonds, " he waved his hand with a vague gesture, "and Pinto, who isthe most valuable of my business associates, is very fond of you. "

The girl sighed helplessly. 

"I thought that matter had been finished and done with, colonel, " shesaid. "I don't know how people in your world would regard such an offer, but in my world they would look upon it as an insult. "

"And what the devil is your world?" asked the colonel, without any signof irritation. 

She rose to her feet. 

"The clean, decent world, " she said calmly, "the law-abiding world. Theworld that regards such arrangements as you suggest as infamous. It isnot only the fact that Mr. Silva is already married----"

The colonel raised his hand. 

"Pinto talks very seriously of getting a divorce, " he said solemnly, "and when a gentleman like Pinto Silva gives his word, that ought to besufficient for any girl. And now you have come to mention law-abidingworlds, " he went on slowly, "I would like to speak of one of thelaw-abiders. "

She knew what was coming and was silent. 

"There's a young gentleman named Stafford King hanging round you. " Hesaw her face flush but went on, "Mr. Stafford King is a policeman. "

"He is an official of the Criminal Intelligence Department, " said thegirl, "but I don't think you would call him a policeman, would you, colonel?"

"All policemen are policemen to me, " said Boundary, "and Mr. StaffordKing is one of the worst of the policemen from my point of view, becausehe's trying to trump up a cock-and-bull story about me and get me intovery serious trouble. "

"I know Mr. King is connected with a great number of unpleasant cases, "said the girl coolly. "It would be a coincidence if he was in a casewhich interested you. "

"It would be a coincidence, would it?" said the colonel, nodding hishuge head. "Perhaps it is a coincidence that my clerk, Hanson, hasdisappeared and has been seen in the company of your friend, eh? It is acoincidence that King is working on the Spillsbury case--the one casethat Solly knows nothing about--eh?"

She faced him, puzzled and apprehensive. 

"Where does all this lead?" she asked. 

"It leads to trouble for Solly, that's all, " said the colonel. "He'strying to put me away and put his business associates away, and he hasgot to go through the mill unless----"

"Unless what?" she asked. 

"Pinto's a merciful man, I'm a merciful man. We don't want to maketrouble with former business associates, but trouble there is going tobe, believe me. "

"What kind of trouble?" asked the girl. "If you mean that your so-calledbusiness association with my father will cease, I shall be happier. Myfather can earn his living and I have my stage work. "

"You have your stage work, " the colonel did not smile but his tonebetrayed his amusement, "and your father can earn his living, eh? He canearn his living in Portland Gaol, " he said, raising his voice. 

"For the matter of that, so can you, colonel. "

The colonel turned his head slowly and surveyed the spare figure in thedoorway. 

"Oh, you heard me, did you, Solly, " he said not unpleasantly. 

"I heard you, " said Solomon White, his lean face a shade whiter than thegirl had ever seen it and his breathing was a little laboured. 

"If you are thinking of gaoling me, " said White, "why, I think we shallmake up a pretty jolly party. "

"Meaning me?" said the colonel, raising his eyebrows. 

"You amongst others. Pinto Silva, 'Swell' Crewe and Selby, to name afew. "

Colonel Boundary permitted himself to chuckle. 

"On what charge?" he asked, "tell me that, Solly? The cleverest men inScotland Yard have been laying for me for years and they haven't gotaway with it. Maybe they have your assistance and that dog Hanson----"

"That's a lie, " interrupted White, "so far as I am concerned--I knownothing about Hanson. "

"Hanson, " said the colonel slowly, "is a thief. He bolted with £300 ofmine, as I've reported to the police. "

"I see, " said White with a little smile of contempt, "got your charge infirst, eh, colonel--discredit the witness. And what have you framed forme?"

"Nothing, " said the colonel, "except this. I've just had from the bank acheque for £4, 000 drawn in your favour on our joint account andpurporting to be signed by Silva and myself. "

"As it happens, " said White, "it was signed by you fellows in mypresence. "

The colonel shook his head. 

"Obdurate to the last, brazening it out to the end--why not make a frankconfession to an old business associate, Solly? I came here to see youabout that cheque. "

"That's the game, is it?" said White. "You are going to charge me withforgery, and suppose I spill it?"

"Spill what?" asked the colonel innocently. "If by 'spill' you mean makea statement to the police derogatory to myself and my businessassociates, what can you tell? I can bring a dozen witnesses to provethat both Pinto and I were in Brighton the morning that cheque wassigned. "

"You came up by car at night, " said White harshly. "We arranged to meetoutside Guildford to split the loot. "

"Loot?" said Colonel Boundary, puzzled. "I don't understand you. "

"I'll put it plainer, " said White, his eyes like smouldering fire: "ayear ago you got young Balston the shipowner to put fifty thousandpounds into a fake company. "

He heard Maisie gasp, but went on. 

"How you did it I'm not going to tell before the girl, but it wasblackmail which you and Pinto engineered. He paid his lastinstalment--the four thousand pounds was my share. "

Colonel Boundary rose and looked at his watch. 

"I have a taxi-cab waiting, and with a taxi-cab time is money. If youare going to bring in the name of an innocent young man, who willcertainly deny that he had any connection with myself and my businessassociates, that is a matter for your own conscience. I tell you I knownothing about this cheque. I have made your daughter an offer. "

"I can guess what it is, " interrupted White, "and I can tell you this, Boundary, that if you are going to sell me, I'll be even with you, if Iwait twenty years! If you imagine I am going to let my daughter intothat filthy gang----" His voice broke, and it was some time before hecould recover himself. "Do your worst. But I'll have you, Boundary! Idon't doubt that you'll get a conviction, and you know the things that Ican't talk about, and I'll have to take my medicine, but you are notgoing to escape. "

"Wait, colonel. " It was the girl who spoke in so low a voice that hewould not have heard her, but that he was expecting her to speak. "Doyou mean that you will--prosecute my father?"

"With law-abiding people, " said the colonel profoundly, "the demands ofjustice come first. I must do my duty to the state, but if you shouldchange your mind----"

"She won't change her mind, " roared White. 

With one stride he had passed between the colonel and the door. Only fora second he stood, and then he fell back. 

"Do your worst, " he said huskily, and Colonel Boundary passed out, pocketing the revolver which had come from nowhere into his hand, andpresently they heard the purr of the departing motor. 

He came to Horsham station in a thoughtful frame of mind. He was stillthinking profoundly when he reached Victoria. 

Then, as he stepped on the platform, a hand was laid on his arm, and heturned to meet the smiling face of Stafford King. 

"Hullo, " said the colonel, and something within him went cold. 

"Sorry to break in on your reverie, colonel, " said Stafford King, "butI've a warrant for your arrest. "

"What is the charge?" asked the colonel, his face grey. 

"Blackmail and conspiracy, " said King, and saw with amazement the lookof relief in the other's eyes. 

Then:

"Boundary, " he said between his teeth, "you thought I wanted you for'Snow' Gregory!"

The colonel said nothing. 

CHAPTER V

IN THE MAGISTRATE'S COURT

Never before in history had the dingy little street, in which NorthLambeth Police Court stands, witnessed such scenes as were presented onthat memorable 4th of December, when counsel for the Crown opened thecase against Colonel Dan Boundary. 

Long before the building was open the precincts of the court werebesieged by people anxious to secure one of the very few seats whichwere available for the public. By nine o'clock it became necessary tosummon a special force of police to clear a way for the numerousmotor-cars which came bowling from every point of the compass and whichwere afterwards parked in the narrow side streets, to the intenseamazement and interest of the curious denizens of the unsavouryneighbourhood in which the court is located. 

Admission was by ticket. Even the reporters, those favoured servants ofdemocracy, had need to produce a printed pass before the scrutinisingpoliceman at the door allowed them to enter. Every available seat hadbeen allotted. Even the magistrate's sacristy had been invaded, andchairs stood three-deep to left and right of him. 

There were some who came out of sheer morbid curiosity, in order thatthey might boast that they were present when this remarkable case washeard. There were others who came, inwardly quaking at the revelationswhich were promised or hinted at in the daily Press, for the influencewhich the Boundary gang exercised was wide and far-reaching. 

A young man stood upon the congested pavement, watching with evidentimpatience the arrival of belated cars. The magistrate had already comeand had disappeared behind the slate-coloured gates which led to thecourtyard. Stafford saw fashionably-dressed women and (with a smile)worried-looking men who were figures in the political and social world, and presently he involuntarily stepped forward into the roadway asthough to meet the electric limousine which came noiselessly to the mainentrance. 

The solitary occupant of the car was a man of sixty--a grey-hairedgentleman of medium height, dressed with scrupulous care, and wearing onhis clean-shaven face a perpetual smile, as though life were anamusement which never palled. 

Stafford King took the extended hand with a little twinkle in his eye. 

"I was afraid we shouldn't be able to keep your place for you, SirStanley, " he said. 

Sir Stanley Belcom, First Commissioner of Criminal Intelligence, accentuated his smile. 

"Well, Stafford, " he drawled, "I've come to see the culminating triumphof your official career. "

Stafford King made a little grimace. 

"I hope so, " he said dryly. 

"I hope so, too, " said the baronet, "yet--I'll tell you frankly, Stafford, I have a feeling that the ordinary processes of the law areinadequate to trap this organisation. The law has too wide a mesh todeal with the terror which this man exercises. Such men are the onlyjustification of lynch law, the quick, sharp justice which isadministered without subtlety and without quibble. "

Stafford looked at the other and made no attempt to hide hisastonishment. 

"You believe in--the Jack o' Judgment?" he asked. 

Sir Stanley shot a swift glance at him. 

"That is the bugbear of the gang, isn't it?"

"So Hanson says, " replied the other. "I verily believe that Hanson ismore afraid of that mysterious person than he is of Boundary himself. "

The Attorney-General had begun his opening speech when the two men madetheir way into the crowded court and found their seats at the end ofthe solicitors table. 

In the dock sat Colonel Boundary, the least concerned of all thatassembly. The colonel was leaning forward, his arms resting on therails, his chin on the back of his hairy hand, his eyes glued upon thegrey-haired lawyer who was dispassionately opening the case. 

"The contention of the Crown, " the Attorney-General was saying, "is thatColonel Boundary is at the head of a huge blackmailing organisation, andthat in the course of the past twenty years, by such means as I shallsuggest and as the principal witness for the Crown will tell you, he hasbuilt up his criminal practice until he now controls the most complexand the most iniquitous organisation that has been known in the long andsordid history of crime. 

"Your Worship will doubtless hear, " he went on, "of a bizarre andfantastic figure which flits through the pages of this story, amysterious somebody who is called the 'Jack. ' But I shall ask yourWorship, as I shall ask the jury, when this case reaches, as it mustreach ultimately, the Central Criminal Court, to disregard thisapparition, which displayed no part in bringing Boundary to justice. 

"The contention of the Crown is, as I say, that Boundary, by means ofterrorisation and blackmail, through the medium and assistance of hiscreatures, has from time to time secured a hold over rich and foolishmen and women, and from these has acquired the enormous wealth which isnow his and his associates'. As to these latter, their prosecutiondepends very largely upon the fate of Boundary. There are, I believe, some of them in court at this moment, and though they are not arrested, it will be no news to them to learn that they are under policeobservation. "

"Swell" Crewe, sitting at the back of the court, shifted uneasily and, turning his head, he met the careless gaze of the tall, military-lookingman who had "detective" written all over him. 

There had been a pause in the Attorney-General's speech whilst heexamined, short-sightedly, the notes before him. 

"In the presentation of this case, your Worship, " he went on, "the Crownis in somewhat of a dilemma. We have secured one important and, I think, convincing witness--a man who has been closely associated with theprisoner, a Scandinavian named Hanson, who, considering himself badlytreated by this gang, has been for a long time secretly getting togetherevidence of an incriminating character. As to his object we need notinquire. There is a possibility suggested by my learned friend, thecounsel for the defence, that Hanson intended blackmailing theblackmailers, and presenting such a weight of evidence against Boundarythat he could do no less than pay handsomely for his confederate'ssilence. That is as may be. The main fact is that Hanson has accumulatedthis documentary evidence, and that that documentary evidence is inexistence in certain secret hiding-places in this country, which will berevealed in the course of his examination. 

"We are at this disadvantage, that Hanson has not yet made anything butthe most scanty of statements. Fearing for his life, since this gangwill stick at nothing, he has been closely guarded by the police fromthe moment he made his preliminary statement. Every effort which hasbeen made to induce him to commit his revelations to writing has been invain, and we are compelled to take what is practically his affidavit inopen court. "

"Do I understand, " interrupted the magistrate, in that weary tone whichis the prerogative of magistrates, "that you are not as yet inpossession of the evidence on which I am to be asked to commit theprisoner to the Old Bailey?"

"That is so, your Worship, " said the counsel. "All we could procure fromHanson was the bald affidavit which was necessary to secure the man'sarrest. "

"So that if anything happened to your witness, there would be no casefor the Crown?"

The Attorney-General nodded. 

"Those are exactly the circumstances, your Worship, " he said, "and thatis why we have been careful to keep our witness in security. The man isin a highly nervous condition, and we have been obliged to humour him. But I do not think your Worship need have any apprehension as to theevidence which will be produced to-day, or that there will not besufficient to justify a committal. "

"I see, " said the magistrate. 

Sir Stanley turned to Stafford and whispered:

"Rather a queer proceeding. "

Stafford nodded. 

"It is the only thing we could do, " he said. "Hanson refused to speakuntil he was in court--until, as he said, he saw Boundary under arrest. "

"Does Boundary know this?"

"I suppose so, " replied Stafford with a little smile, "he knowseverything. He has a whole army of spies. Sir Stanley, you don't knowhow big this organisation is. He has roped in everybody. He has Membersof Parliament, he has the best lawyers in London, and two of the bigdetective agencies are engaged exclusively on his work. "

Sir Stanley pursed his lips thoughtfully and turned his attention to theprosecuting counsel. The address was not a long one, and presently theAttorney-General sat down, to be followed by a leading member of theBar, retained for the defence. Presently he too had finished, and againthe Attorney-General rose. 

"Call Olaf Hanson, " he said, and there was a stir of excitement. 

The door leading to the cells opened, and two tall detectives camethrough, and two others followed. In the midst of the four walked theshort, grey-faced man, in whose hands was the fate, and indeed the life, of Colonel Dan Boundary. 

He did not as much as glance at the dock, but hurried across the floorof the court and was ushered to the witness stand, his four guardiansdisposing themselves behind and before him. The man seemed on the pointof crumbling. His fear-full eyes ranged the court, always avoiding thegross figure in the railed dock. The lips of the witness were white andtrembling. The hands which clutched the front of the box for supporttwitched spasmodically. 

"Your name is Olaf Hanson?" asked the Attorney-General soothingly. 

The witness tried to speak but his lips emitted no sound. He nodded. 

"You are a native of Christiania?"

Again Hanson nodded. 

"You must speak out, " said Counsel kindly, "and you need have no fear. How long have you known Colonel Boundary?"

This time Hanson found his voice. 

"For ten years, " he said huskily. 

An usher came forward from the press at the back of the court with aglass of water and handed it to the witness, who drank eagerly. Counselwaited until he had drained the glass before he spoke again. 

"You have in your possession certain documentary evidence convictingColonel Boundary of certain malpractices?"

"Yes, " said the witness. 

"You have promised the police that you will reveal in court where thosedocuments have been stored?"

"Yes, " said Hanson again. 

"Will you tell the court now, in order that the police may lose aslittle time as possible, where you have hidden that evidence?"

Colonel Boundary was showing the first signs of interest he had evincedin the proceedings. He leaned forward, his head craned round as thoughendeavouring to catch the eye of the witness. 

Hanson was speaking, and speaking with difficulty. 

"I haf--put those papers, "--he stopped and swayed--"I haf put thosepapers----" he began again, and then, without a second's warning, hefell limply forward. 

"I am afraid he has fainted, " said the magistrate. 

Detectives were crowding round the witness, and had lifted him from thewitness stand. One said something hurriedly, and Stafford King left hisseat. He was bending over the prostrate figure, tearing open the collarfrom his throat, and presently was joined by the police surgeon, who wasin court. There was a little whispered consultation, and then StaffordKing straightened himself up and his face was pale and hard. 

"I regret to inform your Worship, " he said, "that the witness is dead. "

CHAPTER VI

STAFFORD KING RESIGNS

A week later, Stafford King came into the office of the FirstCommissioner of the Criminal Intelligence Department, and Sir Stanleylooked up with a kindly but pitying look in his eye. 

"Well, Stafford, " he said gently, "sit down, won't you. What hashappened?"

Stafford King shrugged his shoulders. 

"Boundary is discharged, " he said shortly. 

Sir Stanley nodded. 

"It was inevitable, " he said, "I suppose there's no hope of connectinghim and his gang with the death of Hanson?"

"Not a ghost of a hope, I am afraid, " said Stafford, shaking his head. "Hanson was undoubtedly murdered, and the poison which killed him was inthe glass of water which the usher brought. I've been examining theusher again to-day, and all he can remember is that he saw somebodypushing through the crowd at the back of the court, who handed the glassover the heads of the people. Nobody seems to have seen the man whopassed it. That was the method by which the gang got rid of theirtraitor. "

"Clever, " said Sir Stanley, putting his finger-tips together. "They knewjust the condition of mind in which Hanson would be when he came intocourt. They had the dope ready, and they knew that the detectives wouldallow the usher to bring the man water, when they would not allowanybody else to approach him. This is a pretty bad business, Stafford. "

"I realise that, " said the young chief. "Of course, I shall resign. There's nothing else to do. I thought we had him this time, especiallywith the evidence we had in relation to the Spillsbury case. "

"You mean the letter which Spillsbury wrote to the woman Marsh? How didthat come, by the way?"

"It reached Scotland Yard by post. "

"Do you know who sent it?"

"There was no covering note at all, " replied Stafford. "It was in aplain envelope with a typewritten address and was sent to me personally. The letter, of course, was valueless by itself. "

"Have you made any search to discover the documents which Hanson spokeabout?"

"We have searched everywhere, " said the other a little wearily, "but itis a pretty hopeless business looking through London for a handful ofdocuments. Anyway, friend Boundary is free. "

The other was watching him closely. 

"It is a bitter disappointment to you, my young friend, " he said;"you've been working on the case for years. I fear you'll never haveanother such chance of putting Boundary in the dock. He's got a lot ofpublic sympathy, too. Your thorough-paced rascal who escapes from thehands of the police has always a large following amongst the public, andI doubt whether the Home Secretary will sanction any furtherproceedings, unless we have most convincing proof. What's this?"

Stafford had laid a letter on the table. 

"My resignation, " said that young man grimly. 

The First Commissioner took up the envelope and tore it in four pieces. 

"It is not accepted, " he said cheerfully; "you did your best, and you'reno more responsible than I am. If you resign, I ought to resign, and soought every officer who has been on this game. A few years ago I tookexactly the same step--offered my resignation over a purely private andpersonal matter, and it was not accepted. I have been glad since, and sowill you be. Go on with your work and give Boundary a rest for awhile. "

Stafford was looking down at him abstractedly. 

"Do you think we shall ever catch the fellow, sir?"

Sir Stanley smiled. 

"Frankly, I don't, " he admitted. "As I said before, the only danger Isee to Boundary is this mysterious individual who apparently crops upnow and again in his daily life, and who, I suspect, was the person whosent you the Spillsbury letter--the Jack o' Judgment, doesn't he callhimself? Do you know what I think?" he asked quietly. "I think that ifyou found the 'Jack, ' if you ran him to earth, stripped him of hismystic guise, you would discover somebody who has a greater grudgeagainst Boundary than the police. "

Stafford smiled. 

"We can't run about after phantoms, sir, " he said, with a touch ofasperity in his voice. 

The chief looked at him curiously. 

"I hear you do quite a lot of running about, " he said carelessly, as hebegan to arrange the papers on his table. "By the way, how is MissWhite?"

Stafford flushed. 

"She was very well when I saw her last night, " he said stiffly; "she isleaving the stage. "

"And her father?"

Stafford was silent for a second. 

"He left his home a week before the case came into court and has notbeen seen since, " he said. 

The chief nodded. 

"Whilst White is away and until he turns up I should keep a watchful eyeon his daughter, " he said. 

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Stafford. 

"I'm just making a suggestion, " said the other. "Think it over. "

Stafford thought it over on his way to meet the girl, who was waitingfor him on a sunny seat in Temple Gardens, for the day was fine and evenwarm, and, two hours before luncheon, the place was comparatively emptyof people. 

She saw the trouble in his face and rose to meet him, and for a momentforgot her own distress of mind, her doubts and fears. Evidently sheknew the reason for his attendance at Scotland Yard, and something ofthe interview which he had had. 

"I offered my resignation, " he replied, in answer to her unspokenquestion, "and Sir Stanley refused it. "

"I think he was just, " she said. "Why, it would be simply monstrous ifyour career were spoilt through no fault of your own. "

He laughed. 

"Don't let us talk about me, " he said. "What have you done?"

"I've cancelled all my contracts; I have other work to do. "

"How are----" He hesitated, but she knew just what he meant, and pattedhis arm gratefully. 

"Thank you, I have all the money I want, " she said. "Father left mequite a respectable balance. I am closing the house at Horsham andstoring the furniture, and shall keep just sufficient to fill a littleflat I have taken in Bloomsbury. "

"But what are you going to do?" he asked curiously. 

She shook her head. 

"Oh, there are lots of things that a girl can do, " she said vaguely, "besides going on the stage. "

"But isn't it a sacrifice? Didn't you love your work?"

She hesitated. 

"I thought I did at first, " she said. "You see, I was always a very goodmimic. When I was quite a little girl I could imitate the colonel. Listen!"

Suddenly to his amazement he heard the drawling growl of Dan Boundary. She laughed with glee at his amazement, but the smile vanished and shesighed. 

"I want you to tell me one thing, Mr. King----"

"Stafford--you promised me, " he began. 

She reddened. 

"I hardly like calling you by your christian name but it sounds so likea surname that perhaps it won't be so bad. "

"What do you want to ask?" he demanded. 

She was silent for a moment, then she said:

"How far was my father implicated in this terrible business?"

"In the gang?"

She nodded. 

He was in a dilemma. Solomon White was implicated as deeply as any savethe colonel. In his younger days he had been the genius who wasresponsible for the organisation and had been for years the colonel'sright-hand man until the more subtle villainy of Pinto Silva, thatPortuguese adventurer, had ousted him, and, if the truth be told, untilthe sight of his girl growing to womanhood had brought qualms to theheart of this man, who, whatever his faults, loved the girl dearly. 

"You don't answer me, " she said, "but I think I am answered by yoursilence. Was my father--a bad man?"

"I would not judge your father, " he said. "I can tell you this, that forthe past few years he has played a very small part in the affairs of thegang. But what are you going to do?"

"How persistent you are!" she laughed. "Why, there are so many things Iam going to do that I haven't time to tell you. For one thing, I amgoing to work to undo some of the mischief which the gang have wrought. I am going to make such reparation as I can, " she said, her lipstrembling, "for the evil deeds my father has committed. "

"You have a mission, eh?" he said with a little smile. 

"Don't laugh at me, " she pleaded. "I feel it here. " She put her hand onher heart. "There's something which tells me that, even if my fatherbuilt up this gang, as you told me once he did--ah! you had forgottenthat. "

Stafford King had indeed forgotten the statement. 

"Yes?" he said. "You intend to pull it down?"

She nodded. 

"I feel, too, that I am at bay. I am the daughter of Solomon White, andSolomon White is regarded by the colonel as a traitor. Do you think theywill leave me alone? Don't you think they are going to watch me day andnight and get me in their power just as soon as they can? Think of thelever that would be, the lever to force my father back to them!"

"Oh, you'll be watched all right, " he said easily, and remembered thecommissioner's warning. "In fact, you're being watched now. Do youmind?"

"Now?" she asked in surprise. 

He nodded towards a lady who sat a dozen yards away and whose face wascarefully shaded by a parasol. 

"Who is she?" asked the girl curiously. 

"A young person called Lollie Marsh, " laughed Stafford. "At present shehas a mission too, which is to entangle me into a compromisingposition. "

The girl looked towards the spy with a new interest and a newresentment. 

"She has been trailing me for weeks, " he went on, "and it would beembarrassing to tell you the number of times we have been literallythrown into one another's arms. Poor girl!" he said, with mock concern, "she must be bored with sitting there so long. Let us take a stroll. "

If he expected Lollie to follow, he was to be disappointed She stayed onwatching the disappearing figures, without attempting to rise, andwaiting until they were out of sight, she walked out on to theEmbankment and hailed a passing taxi. She seemed quite satisfied in hermind that the plan she had evolved for the trapping of Stafford Kingcould not fail to succeed. 

CHAPTER VII

THE COLONEL CONDUCTS HIS BUSINESS

A merry little dinner party was assembled that night in a luxurious flatin Albemarle House. It was a bachelor party, and consisted of three--thecolonel, resplendent in evening dress, "Swell" Crewe and a middle-agedman whose antique dress coat and none too spotless linen certainly didnot advertise their owner's prosperity. Yet this man with the stubblymoustache and the bald head could write his cheque for seven figures, being Mr. Thomas Crotin, of the firm of Crotin and Principle, whoseswollen mills occupy a respectable acreage in Huddersfield and Dewsbury. 

"You're Colonel Boundary, are you?" he said admiringly, and for aboutthe seventh time since the meal started. 

The colonel nodded with a good-humoured twinkle in his eye. 

"Well, fancy that!" said Mr. Crotin. "I'll have something to talk aboutwhen I go back to Yorkshire. It is lucky I met your friend, CaptainCrewe, at our club in Huddersfield. "

There was something more than luck in that meeting, as the colonel wellknew. 

"I read about the trial and all, " said the Yorkshireman; "I must say itlooked very black against you, colonel. "

The colonel smiled again and lifted a bottle towards the other. 

"Nay, nay!" said the spinner. "I'll have nowt more. I've got as much asI can carry, and I know when I've had enough. "

The colonel replaced the bottle by his side. 

"So you read of the trial, did you?"

"I did and all, " said the other, "and I said to my missus: 'Yon's aclever fellow, I'd like to meet him. '"

"You have an admiration for the criminal classes, eh?" said the colonelgood-humouredly. 

"Well, I'm not saying you're a criminal, " said the other, taking hishost literally, "but being a J. P. And on the bench of magistrates, Inaturally take an interest in these cases. You never know what you canlearn. "

"And what did your lady wife say?" asked Boundary. 

The Yorkshireman smiled broadly. 

"Well, she doesn't take any interest in these things. She's a properLondon lady, my wife. She was in a high position when I married. "

"Five years ago, " said Boundary, "you married the daughter of LordWestsevern. It cost you a hundred thousand pounds to pay the old man'sdebts. "

The Yorkshireman stared at him. 

"How did you know that?" he asked. 

"You're nominated for Parliament, too, aren't you. And you're to beMayor of Little Thornhill?"

Mr. Crotin laughed uproariously. 

"Well, you've got me properly taped, " he said admiringly, and thecolonel agreed with a gesture. 

"So you're interested in the criminal classes?"

Mr. Crotin waved a protesting hand. 

"I'm not saying you're a member of the criminal classes, colonel, " hesaid. "My friend Crewe here wouldn't think I would be so rude. Ofcourse, I know the charge was all wrong. "

"That's where you're mistaken, " interrupted the colonel calmly; "it wasall right. "

"Eh?"

The man stared. 

"The charge was perfectly sound, " said the colonel, playing with hisfruit knife; "for twenty years I have been making money by buyingbusinesses at about a twentieth of their value and selling them again. "

"But how----" began the other. 

"Wait, I'll tell you. I've got men working for me all over the country, agents and sub-agents, who are constantly on the look-out for scandal. Housekeepers, servants, valets--you know the sort of people who get holdof information. "

Mr. Crotin was speechless. 

"Sooner or later I find a very incriminating fact which concerns agentleman of property. I prefer those scandals which verge on thecriminal, " the colonel went on. 

The outraged Mr. Crotin was rolling his serviette. 

"Where are you going? What are you going to do? The night's young, " saidthe colonel innocently. 

"I'm going, " said Mr. Crotin, very red of face. "A joke's a joke, andwhen friend Crewe introduced me to you, I hadn't any idea that you werethat kind of man. You don't suppose that I'm going to sit here in yoursociety--me with my high connections--after what you've said?"

"Why not?" asked the colonel; "after all, business is business, and asI'm making an offer to you for the Riverborne Mill----"

"The Riverborne Mill?" roared the spinner. "Ah! that's a joke of yours!You'll buy no Riverborne Mill of me, sitha!"

"On the contrary, I shall buy the Riverborne Mill from you. In fact, Ihave all the papers and transfers ready for you to sign. "

"Oh, you have, have you?" said the man grimly. "And what might you beoffering me for the Riverborne?"

"I'm offering you thirty thousand pounds cash, " said the colonel, andhis bearer was stricken speechless. 

"Thirty thousand pounds cash!" he said after awhile. "Why, man, thatproperty is worth two hundred thousand pounds. "

"I thought it was worth a little more, " said the colonel carelessly. 

"You're a fool or a madman, " said the angry Yorkshireman. "It isn't mymill, it is a limited company. "

"But you hold the majority of the shares--ninety-five per cent. , Ithink, " said the colonel. "Those are the shares which you will transferto me at the price I suggest. "

"I'll see you damned first, " roared Crotin, bringing his hand down smashon the table. 

"Sit down again for one moment. " The colonel's voice was gentle butinsistent. "Do you know Maggie Delman?"

Suddenly Crotin's face went white. 

"She was one of your father's mill-girls when you were little more thana boy, " the colonel proceeded, "and you were rather in love with her, and one Easter you went away together to Blackpool. Do you remember?"

Still Crotin did not speak. 

"You married the young lady and the marriage was kept secret because youwere afraid of your father, and as the years went on and the girl wascontent with the little home you had made for her and the allowance yougave her, there seemed to be no need to admit your marriage, especiallyas there were no children. Then you began to take part in local politicsand to accumulate ambitions. You dared not divorce your wife and youthought there was no necessity for it. You had a chance of improvingyourself socially by marrying the daughter of an English lord, and youjumped at it. "

"You've got to prove that, " he said huskily. 

The man found his voice. 

"I can prove it all right. Oh, no, your wife hasn't betrayed you--yourreal wife, I mean. You've betrayed yourself by insisting on paying herby telegraphic money orders. We heard of these mysterious payments butsuspected nothing beyond a vulgar love affair. Then one night, whilstyour placid and complacent wife was in a cinema, one of my peoplesearched her box and came upon the certificate of marriage. Would youlike to see it?"

"I've nothing to say, " said Crotin thickly. "You've got me, mister. Sothat is how you do it!"

"That is how I do it, " said the colonel. "I believe in being frank withpeople like you. Here are the transfers. You see the place for yoursignature marked with a pencil. "

Suddenly Crotin leaped at him in a blind fury, but the colonel grippedhim by the throat with a hand like a steel vice, and shook him as a dogwould shake a rat. And the gentle tone in his voice changed as quickly. 

"Sit down and sign!" snarled Boundary. "If you play that game, I'llbreak your damned neck! Come any of those tricks with me and I'll smashyou. Give him the pen, Crewe. "

"I'll see you in gaol for this, " said the white-faced man shakily. 

"That's about the place you will see me, if you don't sign, and it isthe inside of that gaol you'll be to see me. "

The man rose up unsteadily, flinging down the pen as he did so. 

"You'll suffer for this, " he said between his teeth. 

"Not unduly, " said the colonel. 

There was a tap at the door and the colonel swung round. 

"Who's that?" he asked. 

"Can I come in?" said a voice. 

Crewe was frowning. 

"Who is it?" asked the colonel. 

The door opened slowly. A gloved hand, and then a white, hooded face, slipped through the narrow entry. 

"Jack o' Judgment! Poor old Jack o' Judgment come to make a call, "chuckled the hateful voice. "Down, dog; down!" He flourished thelong-barrelled revolver theatrically, then turned with a chuckle oflaughter to the gaping Mr. Crotin. 

"Poor Jacob!" he crooned, "he has sold his birthright for a mess ofpottage! Don't touch that paper, Crewe, or you die the death!"

His hand leapt out and snatched the transfer, which he thrust into thehand of the wool-spinner. 

"Get out and go home, my poor sheep, " he said, "back to the blankets! Doyou think they'd be satisfied with one mill? They'd come for a millevery year and they'd never leave you till you were dead or broke. Go tothe police, my poor lamb, and tell them your sad story. Go to theadmirable Mr. Stafford King--he'll fall on your neck. You won't, I seeyou won't!"

The laughter rose again, and then swiftly with one arm he swung back themerchant and stood in silence till the door of the flat slammed. 

The colonel found his voice. 

"I don't know who you are, " he said, breathing heavily, "but I'll make abargain with you. I've offered a hundred thousand pounds to anybody whogets you. I'll offer you the same amount to leave me alone. "

"Make it a hundred thousand millions!" said Jack o' Judgment in hiscurious, squeaky voice, "give me the moon and an apple, and I'm yours!"

He was gone before they could realise he had passed through the door, and he had left the flat before either moved. 

"Quick! The window!" said the colonel. 

The window commanded a view of the front entrance of Albemarle House, and the entry was well lighted. They reached the window in time to seethe Yorkshireman emerge with unsteady steps and stride into the night. They waited for their visitor to follow. A minute, two minutes passed, and then somebody walked down the steps to the light. It was a woman, and as she turned her face the colonel gasped. 

"Maisie White!" he said in a wondering voice. "What the devil is shedoing here?"

CHAPTER VIII

THE LISTENER AT THE DOOR

Maisie White had taken up her abode in a modest flat in Doughty Street, Bloomsbury. The building had been originally intended for a dwellinghouse, but its enterprising owner had fitted a kitchenette and abathroom to every floor and had made each suite self-contained. 

She found the one bedroom and a sitting-room quite sufficient for herneeds. Since the day of her father's departure she had not heard fromhim, and she had resolutely refused to worry. What was Solomon White'sassociation with the Boundary gang, she could only guess. She knew ithad been an important one, but her fears on his behalf had less to dowith the action the police might take against him than with Boundary'ssinister threat. 

She had other reasons for leaving the stage than she had told StaffordKing. On the stage she was a marked woman and her movements could befollowed for at least three hours in the day, and she was anxious formore anonymity. She was conscious of two facts as she opened the outerdoor that night to let herself into the hallway, and hurried up to herapartments. The first was that she had been followed home, and thatimpression was the more important of the two. She did not switch on thelight when she entered her room, but bolting the door behind her, shemoved swiftly to the window and raised it noiselessly. Looking out, shesaw two men on the opposite side of the street, standing together inconsultation. It was too dark to recognise them, but she thought thatone figure was Pinto Silva. 

She was not frightened, but nevertheless she looked thoughtfully at thetelephone, and her hand was on the receiver before she changed her mind. After all, they would know where she lived and an inquiry at her agentsor even at the theatre would tell them to where her letters had beenreaddressed. She hesitated a moment, then pulled down the blinds andswitched on the light. 

Outside the two men saw the light flash up and watched her shadow crossthe blind. 

"It is Maisie all right, " said Pinto. "Now tell me what happened. "

In a few words Crewe described the scene which he had witnessed in theAlbemarle flat. 

"Impossible!" said Pinto; "are you suggesting that Maisie is Jack o'Judgment?"

Crewe shrugged. 

"I know nothing about it, " he said; "there are the facts. "

Pinto looked up at the light again. 

"I'm going across to see her, " he said, and Crewe made a grimace. 

"Is that wise?" he asked; "she doesn't know we have followed her home. Won't she be suspicious?"

Pinto shrugged. 

"She's a pretty clever girl that, " he said, "and if she doesn't knowwe're outside, there's nothing of Solomon White in her composition. "

He crossed the road and struck a match to discover which was her bell. He guessed right the first time. Maisie heard the tinkle and knew whatit portended. She had not started to disrobe, and after a few moments'hesitation she went down the stairs and opened the door. 

"It is rather a late hour to call on you, " said Pinto pleasantly, "butwe saw you going away from Albemarle Place, and could not overtake you. "

There was a question in his voice, though he did not give it actualwords. 

"It is rather late for small talk, " she said coolly. "Is there anyreason for your call?"

"Well, Miss White, there were several things I wanted to talk to youabout, " said Pinto, taken aback by her calm. "Have you heard from yourfather?"

"Don't you think, " she said, "it would be better if you came at a moreconventional hour? I don't feel inclined to gossip on the doorstep andI'm afraid I can't ask you in. "

"The colonel is worrying, " Pinto hastened to explain. "You see, Solly'sone of his best friends. "

The girl laughed softly. 

"I know, " she said. "I heard the colonel talking to my father atHorsham, " she added meaningly. 

"You've got to make allowances for the colonel, " urged Pinto; "he losthis temper, but he's feeling all right now. Couldn't you persuade yourfather to communicate with us--with him?"

She shook her head. 

"I am not in a position to communicate with my father, " she repliedquietly. "I am just as ignorant of his whereabouts as you are. Ifanybody is anxious it is surely myself, Mr. Silva. "

"And another point, " Silva went on, so that there should be no gap inthe conversation, "why did you give up your theatrical engagements, Maisie? I took a lot of trouble to get them for you, and it is stupid tojeopardise your career. I have plenty of influence, but managers willnot stand that kind of treatment, and when you go back----"

"I am not going back, " she said. "Really, Mr. Silva, you must excuse meto-night. I am very tired after a hard day's work----" she checkedherself. 

"What are you doing now, Maisie?" asked Silva curiously. 

"I have no wish to prolong this conversation, " said the girl, "but thereis one thing I should like to say, and that is that I would prefer youto call me Miss White. "

"All right, all right, " said Silva genially, "and what were you doing atthe flat to-night, Mai--Miss White?"

"Good night, " said the girl and closed the door in his face. 

He cursed angrily in the dark and raised his hand to rap on the panel ofthe door, but thought better of it and, turning, walked back to theinterested Crewe, who stood in the shadow of a lamp-post watching thescene. 

"Well?" asked Crewe. 

"Confound the girl, she won't talk, " grumbled Silva. "I'd give somethingto break that pride of hers, Crewe. By jove, I'll do it one of thesedays, " he added between his teeth. 

Crewe laughed. 

"There's no sense in going off the deep end because a girl turns youdown, " he said. "What did she say about the flat? And what did she sayabout her visit to Albemarle Place?"

"She said nothing, " said the other shortly. "Come along, let's go backto the colonel. "

On the return journey he declined to be drawn into any kind ofconversation, and Crewe, after one or two attempts to procureenlightenment as to the result of the interview, relapsed into silence. 

They found the colonel waiting for them, and to all appearances thecolonel was undisturbed by the happenings of the evening. 

"Well?" he asked. 

"She admits she was here, " said Pinto. 

"What was she doing?"

"You'd better ask her yourself, " said the other with some asperity. "Itell you, colonel, I can't handle that woman. "

"Nobody ever thought you could, " said the colonel. "Did she give you anyidea as to what her business was?"

Pinto shook his head and the colonel paced the big room thoughtfully, his big hands in his pockets. 

"Here's a situation, " he said. "There's some outsider who's followingevery movement we make, who knew that boob from Huddersfield was coming, and who knew what our business was. That somebody was this infernal Jacko' Judgment, but who is Jack o' Judgment, hey?"

He looked round fiercely. 

"I'll tell you who he is, " he went on, speaking slowly "He's somebodywho knows our gang as well as we know it ourselves, somebody who hasbeen on the inside, somebody who has access, or who has had access, toour working methods. In fact, " he said using his pet phrase, "a businessassociate. "

"Rubbish!" said Pinto. 

This polished man of Portugal, who had come into the gang very late inthe day, was one of the few people who were privileged to offer bluntopposition to the leader of the Boundary Gang. 

"You might as well say it is I, or that it is Crewe, or Dempsey, orSelby----"

"Or White, " said the colonel slowly; "don't forget White. "

They stared at him. 

"What do you mean?" asked Crewe with a frown. 

White had been a favourite of his. 

"How could it be White?"

"Why shouldn't it be White?" said the colonel. "When did Jack o'Judgment make his first appearance? I'll tell you. About the time westarted getting busy framing up something against White. Did we ever seehim when White was with us--no! Isn't it obviously somebody who has beena business associate and knows our little ways? Why, of course it is. Tell me somebody else?

"You don't suggest it is 'Snow' Gregory, anyway?" he addedsarcastically. 

Crewe shivered and half-closed his eyes. 

"For heaven's sake don't mention 'Snow' Gregory, " he said irritably. 

"Why shouldn't I?" snarled the colonel. "He's worth money and life andliberty to us, Crewe. He's an awful example that keeps some of ourbusiness associates on the straight path. Not, " he added with elaboratecare, "not that we were in any way responsible for his untimely end. Buthe died--providentially. A doper's bad enough, but a doper who talks andboasts and tells me, as he told me in this very room, just where he'dput me, is a mighty dangerous man, Crewe. "

"Did he do that?" asked Crewe with interest. 

The colonel nodded. 

"In this very room where you're standing, " he said impressively, "at theend of that table he stood, all lit up with 'coco' and he told me thingsabout our organisation that I thought nobody knew but myself. That's theworst of drugs, " he said, shaking his head reprovingly; "you never knowhow clever they'll make a man, and they made 'Snow' a bit too clever. I'm not saying that I regretted his death--far from it. I don't know howhe got mixed up in the affair----"

"Oh, shut up!" growled Pinto; "why go on acting before us? We were allin it. "

"Hush!" said the colonel with a glance at the door. 

There was a silence. All eyes were fixed on the door. 

"Did you hear anything?" asked the colonel under his breath. 

His face was a shade paler than they had ever remembered seeing it. 

"It is nothing, " said Pinto; "that fellow's got on your nerves. "

The colonel walked to the sideboard and poured out a generous portion ofwhisky and drank it at a gulp. 

"Lots of things are getting on my nerves, " he said, "but nothing gets onmy nerves so much as losing money. Crewe, we've got to go after thatYorkshireman again--at least somebody has got to go after him. "

"And that somebody is not going to be me, " said Crewe quietly. "I did mypart of the business. Let Pinto have a cut. "

Pinto Silva shook his head. 

"We'll drop him, " he said decisively, and for the first time Crewerealised how dominating a factor Pinto had become in the government ofthe band. 

"We'll drop him----"

Suddenly he stopped and craned his head round. 

It was he who had heard something near the door, and now with noiselesssteps he tiptoed across the room to the door, and gripping the handle, opened it suddenly. A gun had appeared in his hand, but he did not useit. Instead, he darted through the open doorway and they heard the soundof a struggle. Presently he came back, dragging by the collar a man. 

"Got him!" he said triumphantly, and hurled his captive into the nearestchair. 

CHAPTER IX

THE COLONEL EMPLOYS A DETECTIVE

Their prisoner was a stranger. He was a lean, furtive-looking man ofthirty-five, below middle height, respectably dressed, and at firstglance, the colonel, whose hobby was distinguishing at a look the socialstanding of humanity, was unable to place him. 

Crewe locked the door. 

"Now then, " said the colonel, "what the devil were you doing listeningat my door? Was that his game, Mr. Silva?"

"That was his game, " said the other, brushing his hands. 

"What have you got to say before I send for the police?" asked thecolonel virtuously. "What have you got to say for yourself? Sneakingabout a gentleman's flat, listening at keyholes!"

The man, who had been roughly handled, had risen and was putting hiscollar straight. If he had been taken aback by the sudden onslaught, hewas completely self-possessed now. 

"If you want to send for the police, you'd better start right away, " hesaid; "you've got a telephone, haven't you? Perhaps I'll have a job forthe policeman, too. You've no right to assault me, my friend, " he said, addressing Pinto resentfully. 

"What were you doing?" asked the colonel. 

"Find out, " said the man sharply. 

The colonel stroked his long moustache, and his manner underwent achange. 

"Now look here, old man, " he said almost jovially; "we're all friendshere, and we don't want any trouble. I daresay you've made a mistake, and my friend has made a mistake. Have a whisky and soda?"

The man grinned crooked. 

"Not me, thank you, " he said emphatically; "if I remember rightly, therewas a young gentleman who took a glass of water in North Lambeth PoliceCourt the other day, and----"

The colonel's eyes narrowed. 

"Well, sit down and be sociable. If you're suggesting that I'm going topoison you, you're also suggesting that you know something which I don'twant you to tell. Or that you have discovered one of those terriblesecrets that the newspapers are all writing about. Now be a sensibleman; have a drink. "

The man hesitated. 

"You have a drink of whisky out of the same bottle, and I'll join you. "

"Help yourself, " said the colonel good-naturedly. "Give me any glass youlike. "

The man went to the sideboard, poured out two pegs and sent thesoda-water sizzling into the long glasses. 

"Here's yours and here's mine, " he said; "good luck!"

He drank the whisky off, after he had seen the colonel drink his, andwiped his mouth with a gaudy handkerchief. 

"I'm taking it for granted, " said the colonel, "that we've made nomistake and that you were listening at our door. Now we want nounpleasantness, and we'll talk about this matter as sensible humanbeings and man to man. "

"That's the way to talk, " said the other, smacking his lips. 

"You've been sent here to watch me. "

"I may have and I may not have, " said the other. 

Pinto shifted impatiently, but the colonel stopped him with a look. 

"Now let me see what you are, " mused the colonel, still wearing thatbenevolent smile of his. "You're not an ordinary tradesman. You've got alook of the book canvasser about you. I have it--you're a privatedetective!"

The man smirked. 

"Perhaps I am, " said he, "and, " he added, "perhaps I'm not. "

The colonel slapped him on the shoulder. 

"Of course you are, " he said confidently; "we don't see shrewd-lookingfellows like you every day. You're a split!"

"Not official, " said the man quickly. 

He had all the English private detective's fear of posing as the genuinearticle. 

"Now look here, " said the colonel, "I'm going to be perfectly straightwith you, and you've got to be straight with me. That's fair, isn't it?"

"Quite fair, " said the man; "if I've been misconducting myself in anymanner----"

"Don't mention it, " said the colonel politely, "my friend here willapologise for handling you roughly, I'm sure; won't you, Mr. Silva?"

"Sure!" said the other, without any great heartiness. 

He was tired of this conversation and was anxious to know where it wasleading. 

"You're not in the private detective business for your health, " said thecolonel, and the man shook his head. 

"I bet you're working for a firm that's paying you about three pounds aweek and your miserable expenses--a perfect dog's life. "

"You're quite right there, " said the man, and he spoke with theearnestness of the ill-used wage-earner, "it is a dog's life; out in allkinds of weather, all hours of the day and night, and never so much as'thank you' for any work you do. Why, we get no credit at all, sir. Ifwe go into the witness-box, the lawyers treat us like dirt. "

"I absolutely agree with you, " said the colonel, shaking his head. "Ithink the private detective business in this country isn't appreciatedas it ought to be. And it is very curious we should have met you, " hewent on; "only this evening I was saying to my friends here, that weought to get a good man to look after our interests. You've heard aboutme, I'm sure, Mr. ----"

"Snakit, " said the other; "here's my card. "

He produced a card from his waistcoat pocket, and the colonel read it. 

"Mr. Horace Snakit, " he said, "of Dooby and Somes. Now what do you sayto coming into our service?"

The man blinked. 

"I've got a good job----" he began inconsistently. 

"I'll give you a better--six pounds a week, regular expenses and anallowance for dressing. "

"It's a bet!" said Mr. Snakit promptly. 

"Well, you can consider yourself engaged right away. Now, Mr. Snakit, asfrankness is the basis of our intercourse, you will tell me straightaway whether you were engaged in watching me?"

"I'll admit that, sir, " said the man readily. "I had a job to watch youand to discover if you knew the whereabouts of a certain person. "

"Who engaged you?"

"Well----" the man hesitated. "I don't know whether it isn't betrayingthe confidence of a client, " he waited for some encouragement to pursuethe path of rectitude and honour, but received none. "Well, I'll tellyou candidly, our firm has been engaged by a young lady. She brought mehere to-night----"

"Miss White, eh?" said the colonel quickly. 

"Miss White it was, sir, " said Snakit. 

"So that was why she was here? She wanted to show you----"

"Just where your rooms were, sir, " said the man. "She also wanted toshow me the back stairs by which I could get out of the building if Iwanted to. "

"What were your general instructions?"

"Just to watch you, sir, and if I had an opportunity when you were out, of sneaking in and nosing round. "

"I see, " said the colonel. "Crewe, just take Mr. Snakit downstairs andtell him where to report. Fix up his pay--you know, " he gave asignificant sideways jerk of his head, and Crewe escorted the gratifiedlittle detective from the apartment. 

When the door had closed, the colonel turned on Silva. 

"Pinto, " he said and there was a rumble in his voice which betrayed hisanger, "that girl is dangerous. She may or may not know where her fatheris--this detective business may be a blind. Probably Snakit was senthere knowing that he would be captured and spill the beans. "

"That struck me, too, " said Pinto. 

"She's dangerous, " repeated the colonel. 

He resumed his promenade up and down the room. 

"She's an active worker and she's working against us. Now, I'm going tosettle with Miss White, " he said gratingly. "I'm going to settle withher for good and all. I don't care what she knows, but she probablyknows too much. She's hand in glove with the police and maybe she'sworking with her father. You'll get Phillopolis here to-morrowmorning----"

The other's eyes opened. 

"Phillopolis?" he almost gasped. "Good heavens! You're not going to----"

The colonel faced him squarely. 

"You've had your chance with the girl and you've missed it, " he said. "You've tried your fancy method of courting and you've fallen down. "

"But I'm not going to stand for Phillopolis, " said the other, with tenseface. "I tell you I like the girl. There's going to be none of that----"

"Oh, there isn't, isn't there?" said the colonel in his silkiest tone. 

Then suddenly he leaned forward across the table and his face was theface of a devil. 

"There's only one Boundary Gang, Pinto, and this is it, " he said betweenhis clenched white teeth, "and there's only one Dan Boundary and that'sme. Do you get me, Pinto? You can go a long way with me if I happen tobe going that way. But you stand in the road and you're going to getwhat's coming. I've been good to you, Pinto. I've stood yourinterference because it amused me. But you come up against me, really upagainst me, and by the Lord Harry! you'll know it. Did you get that?"

"I've got it" said Pinto sullenly. 

CHAPTER X

THE GREEK PHILLOPOLIS

The upbuilding of the Boundary gang had neither been an accident, norwas it exactly designed on the lines which it ultimately followed. 

The main structure was Boundary himself, with his extraordinaryfinancial genius, his plausibility, his lightning exploitation of everyadvantage which offered. Outwardly he was the head of three tradingcorporations which complied with the laws, paid small but respectabledividends and cloaked other operations which never appeared in theofficial records of the companies. 

The sidelines of the gang came through force of circumstances. Men--good, bad and indifferent--were drawn into the orbit of itsactivities, as extraordinary circumstances arose or dire necessitiesdictated. Throughout the length and breadth of Britain, through France, Italy, and in the days before the war, and even during the war, inGermany, in Russia and in the United States, were men who, if they couldnot be described as agents, were at least ready tools. 

He had a finger in every unsavoury pie. The bank robber discharged fromgaol did not ask Colonel Boundary to finance him in the purchase of anew kit of tools--an up-to date burglar's kit costs something over twohundred pounds--but there were people who would lend the money, whicheventually came out of the colonel's pocket. Some of the businesses hefinanced were on the border line of respectability. Some into which hismoney was sunk were frankly infamous. But it was a popular fiction thathe knew nothing of these. Or, if he did know, that he was financing orat the back of a scoundrel, it was insisted that that scoundrel wasengaged in (so far as the colonel knew) legitimate enterprise. 

Paul Phillopolis was a small Greek merchant, who had an office inMincing Court--a tiny room at the top of four flights of stairs. On theglass panel of its door was the announcement: "General Exporter. "

Mr. Phillopolis spent three or four hours at his office daily and forthe rest of the time, particularly towards the evening, was to be foundin a _brasserie_ in Soho. He was a dark little man, with fiercemoustachios and a set of perfect white teeth which he displayed readily, for he was easily amused. His most intimate acquaintances knew him to bean exporter of Greek produce to South America, and he was, in the largesense of the word, eminently respectable. 

Occasionally he would be seen away from his customary haunt, discussingwith a compatriot some very urgent business, which few knew about. Forthere were ships which cleared from the Greek ports, carrying cargoes tothe order of Mr. Phillopolis, which did not appear in any bill oflading. Dazed-looking Armenian girls, girls from South Russia, fromGreece, from Smyrna, en route to a promised land, looked forward to therealisation of those wonderful visions which the Greek agent had socarefully sketched. 

In half a dozen South American towns the proprietors of as many dancehalls would look over the new importations approvingly and remit theirbank drafts to the merchant of Mincing Court. It was a profitablebusiness, particularly in pre-war days. 

The colonel departed from his usual practice and met the Greek himself, the place of meeting being a small hotel in Aldgate. Whatever otherpretences the colonel made, he did not attempt to continue the fictionthat he was ignorant of the Greek's trade. 

"Paul, " he said after the first greetings were over, "I've been a goodfriend to you. "

"You have indeed, colonel, " said the man gratefully. 

He spoke English with a very slight accent, for he had been born andeducated in London. 

"If ever I can render you a service----"

"You can, " said the colonel, "but it is not going to be easy. "

The Greek eyed him curiously. 

"Easy or hard, " he said, "I'll go through with it. "

The colonel nodded. 

"How is the business in South America?" he asked suddenly. 

The Greek spread out his hands in deprecation. 

"The war!" he said tragically, "you can imagine what it has been like. All those girls waiting for music-hall engagements and impossible toship them owing to the fleets. I must have lost thousands of pounds. "

"The demand hasn't slackened off, eh?" asked the colonel, and the Greeksmiled. 

"South America is full of money. They have millions--billions. Almostevery other man is a millionaire. The music-halls have patrons but notalent. "

The colonel smiled grimly. 

"There's a girl in London of exceptional ability, " he said. "She hasappeared in a music-hall here, and she's as beautiful as a dream. "

"English?" asked the Greek eagerly. 

"Irish, which is better, " said the other; "as pretty as a picture, Itell you. The men will rave about her. "

The Greek looked puzzled. 

"Does she want to go?" he asked. 

The colonel snarled round at him:

"Do you think I should come and ask you to book her passage if shewanted to go?" he demanded. "Of course she doesn't want to go, and shedoesn't know she's going. But I want her out of the way, youunderstand?"

Mr. Phillopolis pulled a long face. 

"To take her from England?"

"From London, " said the colonel. 

The Greek shook his head. 

"It is impossible, " he said; "passports are required and unless she waswilling to go it would be impossible to take her. You can't kidnap agirl and rush her out of the country except in storybooks, colonel. "

Boundary interrupted him impatiently. 

"Don't you think I know that?" he asked; "your job is, when she's in afit state of mind, to take her across and put her somewhere where she'snot coming back for a long time. Do you understand?"

"I understand that part of it very well, " said the Greek. 

"I'm not to be mixed up in it, " said Boundary. "The only thing I canpromise you is that she'll go quietly. I'll have her passports fixed. She'll be travelling for her health--you understand? When you get toSouth America I want you to take her into the interior of the country. You're not to leave her in the music-halls in one of the coast townswhere English and American tourists are likely to see her. "

"But how are you going to----"

"That's my business, " said the colonel. "You understand what you have todo. I'll send you the date you leave and I'll pay her passage and yours. For any out-of-pocket expenses you can send the bill to me, youunderstand?"

Obviously it was not a job to the liking of Phillopolis, but he had goodreason to fear the colonel and acquiesced with a nod. Boundary went backto where he had left Pinto and found the Portuguese biting hisfinger-nails--a favourite spare-time occupation of his. 

"Did you fix it?" he asked in a low voice. 

"Of course, I fixed it, " said the colonel sharply. 

"I'm not going to have anything to do with it, " said the other, and thecolonel smiled. 

"Maybe you'll change your mind, " he said significantly. 

There was a knock at the door and the colonel himself answered it. Hetook the card from the servant's hand and read:

 "Mr. STAFFORD KING, "Criminal Intelligence Department. "

He looked from the card to Pinto, then

"Show him in. "

CHAPTER XI

THE COLONEL AT SCOTLAND YARD

The two men had not met since they had parted at the door of the NorthLambeth Police Court, and there was in Colonel Boundary's smilesomething of forgiveness and gentle reproach. 

"Well, Mr. King, " he said, "come in, come in, won't you?"

He offered his hand to the other, but Stafford apparently did not seeit. 

"No malice, I trust, Mr. King?" said the colonel genially. "You know myfriend Mr. Silva? A business associate of mine, a director of several ofmy companies. "

"I know him all right, " said Stafford and added, "I hope to know himbetter. "

Pinto recognised the underlying sense of the words, but not a muscle ofhis face moved. For Stafford King the hatred with which he regarded thelaw lost its personal character. This man was something more than athief-taker and a tracker of criminals. Pinto chose to regard him as theclose friend of Maisie White, and as such, his rival. 

"And to what are we indebted for this visit?" asked the bland colonel. 

"The chief wants to see you. "

"The chief?"

"Sir Stanley Belcom. Being the chief of our department I should havethought you had heard of him. "

"Sir Stanley Belcom, " repeated the other; "why, of course, I know SirStanley by repute. May I ask what he wants to see me about? And how ismy young friend--er--Miss White?" asked the colonel. 

"When I saw her last, " replied Stafford steadily, "she was lookingpretty well, so far as I could tell. "

"Indeed!" said the colonel politely. "I have a considerable interest inthe welfare of Miss White. May I ask when you saw her?

"Last night, " replied Stafford. "She was standing at the door of herapartments in Doughty Street, having a little talk with your friend, " henodded to Pinto, and Pinto started; "also, " said the cheerful Stafford, "another mutual friend of ours, Mr. Crewe, was within hailing distance, unless I am greatly mistaken. "

"So you were watching, eh?" burst out Pinto "I thought after the lessonyou had a couple of weeks ago, you'd have----"

"Let me carry on this conversation, if you don't mind, " said thecolonel, and the fury in his eyes silenced the Portuguese. 

"We have agreed to let bygones be bygones, Mr. King, and I am sure it isonly his excessive zeal on my behalf that induced our friend to be soindiscreet as to refer to the unpleasant happenings--which we will allowto pass from our memories. "

So the girl was being watched. That made things rather more difficultthan he had imagined. Nevertheless, he anticipated no supreme obstacleto the actual abduction. His plans had been made that morning, when hesaw in the columns of the daily newspaper a four-line advertisementwhich, to a large extent, had cleared away the greatest of hisdifficulties. 

"And if Mr. King is looking after our young friend, Maisie White, thedaughter of one of our dearest business associates--why, I'm glad, " hewent on heartily. "London, Mr. King, is a place full of danger for younggirls, particularly those who are deprived of the loving care of aparent, and one of the chief attractions, if I may be allowed to say so, which the police have for me, is the knowledge that they are theprotectors of the unprotected, the guardians of the unguarded. "

He made a little bow, and for all his amusement Stafford gravelyacknowledged the handsome compliment which the most notorious scoundrelin London had paid the Metropolitan Police Force. 

"When am I to see your chief?"

"You can come along with me now, if you like, or you can go to-morrowmorning at ten o'clock, " said Stafford. 

The colonel scratched his chin. 

"Of course, I understand that this summons is in the nature of afriendly----" he stopped questioningly. 

"Oh, certainly, " said Stafford, his eyes twinkling, "it isn't thecustomary 'come-along-o'-me' demand. I think the chief wants to meetyou, to discover just the kind of person you are. You will like him, Ithink, colonel. He is the sort of man who takes a tremendous interestin--er----"

"In crime?" said the colonel gently. 

"I was trying to think of a nice word to put in its place, " admittedStafford; "at any rate, he is interested in you. "

"There is no time like the present, " said the colonel. "Pinto, will youfind my hat?"

On the way to Scotland Yard they chatted on general subjects tillStafford asked:

"Have you had another visitation from your friend?"

"The Jack o' Judgment?" asked the colonel. "Yes, we met him the othernight. He's rather amusing. By the way, have you had complaints fromanywhere else?"

Stafford shook his head. 

"No, he seems to have specialised on you, colonel. You have certainlythe monopoly of his attentions. "

"What is going to happen supposing he makes an appearance when I happento have a lethal weapon ready?" asked the colonel. "I have never killeda person in my life, and I hope the sad experience will not be mine. Butfrom the police point of view, how do I stand suppose--there is anaccident?"

Stafford shrugged his shoulders. 

"That is his look out, " he said. "If you are threatened, I dare say ajury of your fellow countrymen will decide that you acted inself-defence. "

"He came the other night, " the colonel said reminiscently, "when wewere fixing up a particularly difficult--er--business negotiation. "

"Bad luck!" said Stafford. "I suppose the mug was scared?"

"The what?" asked the puzzled colonel. 

"The mug, " said Stafford. "You may not have heard the expression. Itmeans 'can'--'fool'--'dupe. '"

The colonel drew a long breath. 

"You still bear malice, I see, Mr. King, " he said sadly. 

He entered the portals of Scotland Yard without so much as a tremor, passed up the broad stairs and along the unlovely corridors, till hecame to the double doors which marked the First Commissioner's privateoffice. Stafford disappeared for a moment and presently returned withthe news that the First Commissioner would not be able to see hisvisitor for half an hour. Stafford apologised but the colonel wasaffability itself and kept up a running conversation until a beckoningsecretary notified them that the great man was disengaged. 

It was King who ushered the colonel into his presence. Sir Stanley waswriting at a big desk and looked up as the colonel entered. 

"Sit down, colonel, " he said, nodding his head to a chair on theopposite side of the desk. "You needn't wait, King. There are one or twothings I want to speak to the colonel about. "

When the door had closed behind the detective, Sir Stanley leaned backin his chair. Their eyes met, the grey and the faded blue, and for thespace of a few seconds they stared. Sir Stanley Belcom was the first todrop his eyes. 

"I've sent for you, colonel, " he said, "because I think you might giveme a great deal of information, if you're willing. "

"Command me, " said the colonel grandly. 

"It is on the matter of a murder which was committed in London a fewmonths ago, " said the commissioner quietly and for a moment ColonelBoundary did not speak. 

"I presume you are referring to the 'Snow' Gregory murder?" he said atlast. 

"Exactly, " nodded the commissioner. "We have had an inquiry from Americaas to the identity of this young man. Now, you knew him better thananybody else in London, colonel. Can you tell me, was he an American?"

"Emphatically not, " said the colonel with a little sigh, as though hewere relieved at the turn the conversation was taking. "I came to knowhim through--er--circumstances, and exactly what they were I cannot forthe moment remember. I had a lot to do with him. He did odd jobs forme. "

"Was he well educated?" asked the commissioner. 

"Yes, I should say he was, " said the colonel slowly. "There was a storythat he had been to Oxford, and that's very likely true. He spoke like acollege man. "

"Do you know if he had any relations in England?"

The commissioner eyed the other straightly and the colonel hesitated. How much does this man know? he wondered, and decided that he could dono harm if he told all the truth. 

"He had no relations in England, " he said, "but he had a father who wasabroad. "

"Ah, now we're getting at some facts, " said the commissioner and drew aslip of paper towards him. "What was the father's name?"

The colonel shook his head. 

"That I can't tell you, sir, " he said. "I should like to oblige you butI have no more idea of what his name was than the man in the moon. Ibelieve he was in India, because letters from India used to come toGregory. "

"Was Gregory his name?"

"His Christian name, I think, " said the colonel after a moment'sthought. "He went wrong at college and was sent down. Then he went toParis and started to study art, and he got in trouble there, too. That'sas much as he ever told me. "

"He had no brothers?" asked the commissioner. 

"None, " said the colonel emphatically. "I am certain of that, because heonce thanked God that he was the only child. "

"I see, " the commissioner nodded; "you have formed no theory as to whyhe met his death or how?"

"No theory at all, " said the colonel, but corrected himself. "Of course, I've had ideas and opinions, but none of them has ever worked out. Sofar as I know, he had no enemies, although he was a quick-tempered chap, especially when he was recovering from a dose of 'coco, ' and wouldquarrel with his own grandmother. "

"You've no idea why he was in London? Apparently he did not live here. "

The colonel shrugged his massive shoulders. 

"No, I couldn't tell you anything about that, sir, " he said. 

"He was not an American?" asked the commissioner again. 

"I could swear to that, " answered the colonel. 

There was a pause and he waited. 

"There's another matter. " The commissioner spoke slowly. "I understandthat you are being bothered by a mysterious individual who calls himselfthe Knave of Judgment. "

"Jack o' Judgment, " corrected the colonel with a contemptuous smile. "Those sort of monkey tricks don't bother me, I can assure you. "

"I have my theories about the Jack o' Judgment, " said the commissioner. "I have been looking up the circumstances of the murder, and I seem toremember that on the body was found a playing card. "

"That's right, " said the colonel, who had remembered the fact himselfmany times, "the Jack of Clubs. "

"Do you know what that Jack of Clubs signified?" asked the commissioner, but the colonel could honestly say that he did not. Its presence on thebody had frequently puzzled him and he had never found a solution. 

"There is a certain type of ruffian to be found, particularly in Paris, who affects this sort of theatrical trade-mark--did you know that?"asked the commissioner. 

The colonel was suddenly stricken to silence. He did not know this fact, in spite of his extraordinary knowledge of the criminal world. 

"These men have their totems and their sign manuals, " said thecommissioner. "For example, the apache Flequier, who was executed atNantes the other day, invariably left a domino--the double-six--near hisvictim. "

This was news to the colonel too. 

"I've been giving a great deal of thought and time to this case, " saidthe commissioner, "and I was hoping that perhaps you could help me. Themost workable theory that I can suggest is that this unfortunate man wasdestroyed by a French criminal of the class which I have indicated, thebullying apache type, which is so common in France. Why the murder wascommitted, " the commissioner fingered his paper-knife carelessly, "whatled to it and who committed it, and more especially who instigated thecrime, are matters which seem to me to defy detection. Do you agree?"

"I quite agree, " said the colonel, licking his dry lips. 

"Now I suggest to you, " said the commissioner, "that your Jack o'Judgment, whoever he is, is some relation to the dead man. "

He spoke slowly and emphatically and the colonel did not raise his eyesfrom the desk. 

"It is not my business to make life any easier for you, " thecommissioner was saying, "or to assist you in any way. But as the Jacko' Judgment seems to me to be engaged in a wholly illegal practice, andas I, in my capacity, must suppress illegal practices, I make you apresent of this suggestion. "

"That the Jack o' Judgment is related to 'Snow' Gregory?" asked thecolonel huskily. 

"That is my suggestion, " said the commissioner. 

"And you think----"

The commissioner raised his shoulders. 

"I think he is your greatest danger, colonel, " he said, "far greaterthan the police, far greater than the clever minds which are planning tobring you to the dock and possibly, " he added, "to the gallows. "

Ordinarily the colonel would have protested at the suggestion in thespeech, protested laughingly or with dignity, but now he was strickendumb, both by the seriousness of the commissioner's voice and by theconsciousness of a new and a more terrible danger than any that hadconfronted him. He rose, realising that the interview was ended. 

"I am greatly obliged to you, Sir Stanley, " he said clearing his throat. "It is good of you to warn me, but I'd not like you to think that I amengaged in any dishonest----"

"We'll let that matter stand over for discussion until another time, "said the commissioner dryly, as Stafford King came into the room. "Youmight show the colonel the way to the street. Otherwise he will begetting himself entangled in some of our detention rooms. Good morning, Colonel Boundary. Don't forget. "

"I'm not likely to, " said the colonel. 

He recovered his poise quickly enough and by the time he was in thestreet he was back in his old mood. But he had had a shock. That sunnyafternoon was filled with shadows. The booming bells of Big Ben tolled"Jack o' Judgment, " the very wheels of the taxi droned the words. AndColonel Boundary came back to Albemarle Place for the first time in hislife with his confidence in Colonel Boundary shaken. 

There was nobody in save the one manservant he kept by the day, and hepassed into the dining-room overlooking the street. He had work to doand it had to be done quickly. In one of the walls was set a stout safe, and this he opened, taking from it a steel box which he carried to thetable. There was a fire laid on the hearth and to this he put a matchthough the day was warm enough. Then he proceeded to unlock the box. Apparently it was empty, but, taking out his scarf-pin, he inserted thepoint in a tiny hole, which would have escaped casual observation, andpressed. 

Half the steel bottom of the box leapt up, disclosing a shallow cavitybeneath. The colonel stared. There had been two letters put in there, letters which he had put away against the moment when it might benecessary to bring a recalcitrant agent to heel. They had gone. He slidhis fingers beneath the half of the bottom which had not opened and felta card. He drew this out and looked at it, licking his lips the while. 

For the space of a minute he stared and stared at the Knave of Clubs heheld in his hand. A Knave of Clubs signed with a flourish across itsface: "Jack o' Judgment. " Then he flung the card into the fire and, walking to the sideboard, splashed whisky into a tumbler with a handthat shook. 

CHAPTER XII

BUYING A NURSING HOME

The building in which Colonel Boundary had his beautiful home was of atype not uncommonly met with in the West End of London. The street floorwas taken up entirely with shops, the first floor with offices and theremainder of the building was practically given over to the colonel. Oneby one he had ousted every tenant from the building, and practically thewhole of the fourteen sets of apartments which constituted theresidential portion of the building was held by him in one name oranother. Some he had obtained by the payment of heavy premiums, some hehad secured when the lease of the former tenant had lapsed, some he hadgathered in by sub-hiring. He had tried to buy the building, since itserved his purpose well, but came against a deed of trust and the Courtof Chancery, and had wisely refrained from going any further into amatter which must bring him vis-à-vis with a Master in Chancery, withall the publicity which such a transaction entailed. 

Nor had he been successful in acquiring any of the premises on the firstfloor. They were held by three very old established businesses--anestate agent, a firm of land surveyors and the offices of a valuer. Hemissed his opportunity, at any rate, of securing the business of Lee andHol, the surveyors, and did not know it was in the market until after ithad been transferred to a new owner. But they were quiet, sober tenants, who closed their offices between five and six every night and did notopen them until between nine or ten on the following morning, and theirvery respectability gave him a certain privacy. 

The new proprietor of Lee and Hol was a short-sighted, elderly man of nogreat conversational power, and apparently of no fixed purpose in lifeexcept to say "no" to the very handsome offers which the colonel'sagents made when they discovered there was a chance of re-purchasing thebusiness. Boundary had personally inspected all the offices. He hadfound an excuse to visit them several times, duly noted the arrangementof the furniture, the sizes of the staffs and the general character ofthe business which was being carried on. This was a necessary precautionbecause these offices were immediately under his own flat. But just nowthey had a special value, because it was a practice during the daytimefor the three firms to employ a commissionaire, who occupied a littleglass-partitioned office on the landing and attended impartially to theneeds of all three tenants to the best of his ability. 

Boundary descended the stairs and found the elderly man in his office, leisurely and laboriously affixing stamps to a pile of letters. Hecalled him from his task. 

"Judson, " he said, "have you seen anybody go up to my rooms thisafternoon?"

The man thought. 

"No, sir, I haven't, " he replied. 

"Have you been here all the time?"

"Yes, since one o'clock I have been in my office, " said thecommissionaire. "None of our young gentlemen wanted anything. "

"You didn't go out to go to the post?"

"No, sir, " said the man. "I've not stirred from this office except forone minute when I went into Mr. Lee's office to get these letters. "

"And you've seen nobody go upstairs?"

"Not since Mr. Silva came down, sir. He came down after you, if youremember. "

"Nobody's been up?" insisted the other. 

"Not a soul. Your servant came down before you, sir. "

"That's true, " said the colonel remembering that he had sent the man ona special journey to Huddersfield with a letter to the bigamous Mr. Crotin. "You haven't seen a lady go up at all?" he asked suddenly. 

"Nobody has gone up them stairs, " said the commissionaire emphatically. "I hope you haven't lost anything, sir?"

The colonel shook his head. 

"No, I haven't lost anything. Rather, I've found something, " he saidgrimly. 

He slipped half-a crown into the man's hand. 

"You needn't mention the fact that I've been making inquiries, " he saidand went slowly up the stairs again. 

The card had been put there that day. He would swear it. The ink on thecard had not had time to darken and when he made a further search of hisroom, this view was confirmed by the appearance of his blotting-pad. Thecard had been dried there, and the pen, which had been left on thetable, was still damp. 

The colonel passed into his bedroom and took off his coat and vest. Hesearched his drawer and found what looked to be like a pair of bracesmade of light fabric. These he slipped over his shoulder, adjusting themso that beneath his left arm hung a canvas holster. From another drawerhe took an automatic pistol, pulled the magazine from the butt andexamined it before he returned it, and forced a cartridge into thebreach by drawing back the cover. This he carefully oiled, and then, pressing up the safety catch, he slipped the pistol into the holster andresumed his coat and vest. 

It was a long time since the colonel had carried a gun under his arm, but his old efficiency was unimpaired. He practised before a mirror andwas satisfied with his celerity. He loaded a spare magazine, and droppedit into the capacious pocket of his waistcoat. Then, putting theremainder of the cartridges away tidily, he closed the box, shut thedrawer and went back to his room. If all the commissioner had hintedwere true, if this mysterious visitor was laying for him because of the'Snow' Gregory affair, he should have what was coming to him. 

The colonel was no coward and if this eerie experience had got a littleon his nerves, it was not to be wondered at. He drew up a chair to thetable, sitting in such a position that he could see the door, took apencil and a sheet of paper and began to write rapidly. 

The man's knowledge was encyclopædic. Not once did he pause or refer toa catalogue, and he was still writing when Crewe came in. The colonellooked up. 

"You're the man I want, " he said. 

He handed the other three sheets of paper, closely covered with writing. 

"What's this?" asked Crewe and read:

"Twenty-three iron bedsteads, twenty-three mattresses, twenty-three----"

"Why, what's all this, colonel?"

"You can go down to Tottenham Court Road and you can order all thatfurniture to be taken into No. 3, Washburn Avenue. "

"Are you furnishing a children's orphanage or something?" asked theother in surprise. 

"I am furnishing a nursing home, to be exact, " said the colonel slowly. "I bought it this morning, and I'm going to furnish it to-morrow. SendLollie Marsh to me. Tell her I want her to get three women of the rightsort to take charge of a mental case which is coming to my nursing home. By the way, you had better telegraph to old Boyton, or better still, goin a cab and get him. He'll probably be drunk but he's still on themedical register and he's the man I want. Take him straight away toWashburn Avenue, and don't forget that it's his nursing home and notmine. My name doesn't occur in this matter and you'd better get a dummyto do the buying for you from the furniture people. "

"Who is the mental case?" asked the other. 

"Maisie White, " snapped the colonel, and Crewe stared. 

"Mad?" he said incredulously. "Is Maisie mad?"

"She may not be at present, " said Boundary, "but----"

He did not finish his sentence, and Crewe, who was once a gentleman andwas now a thief, swallowed something--but he had swallowed too much tochoke at the threat to a girl in whom he had not the slightest interest. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE LOVE OF STAFFORD KING

Maisie White had no illusions. When the report came to her that thedetective she had employed had passed his services over to the man hewas engaged to watch, she knew that the full force of the Boundary Gangwould be employed to her extinction. Strangely enough, she did notappear to be disturbed, as she confessed to Stafford King. They werelunching together at the Hotel Palatine and the detective was unusuallythoughtful. 

"Why don't you go out of London?" he asked. 

"I must go on with my work, " she said. 

"What is your work?" he asked. 

"I have told you once, " she replied. "I am trying to disentangle myfather from disgrace. I am working to put him apart when the day ofreckoning comes. "

"You've not heard from him?" he asked. 

She shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears. 

"He has been a good father to me, " she said, "the kindest and best ofdaddies. It is dreadful to think----" her lips quivered and she could gono further. 

Nor could Stafford King make matters any easier for her. He knew betterthan she the depth of Solomon White's commitments. If the gang eversmashed, and if by good fortune the law ever took its course, there wasno hope for Solomon White's escape from his share of the responsibility. 

"Why do you think your father went away?" he asked, to turn the subjectto a new aspect. 

She did not reply instantly. 

"I think he was scared, " she said after a while. "I was shocked when Idiscovered how much in awe of the colonel he stood. He was justterrified at the threat, and yet I know he would have given his life toprotect me from harm. I think it was just I that spurred him on to makethe plans he did. "

Stafford King agreed with a gesture. 

"Now what are we going to do about you?" he asked, half-humorously, half-seriously. "I cannot let you go wandering loose about London--I'mscared to death as it is. "

She smiled at him. 

"You had better lock me up, " she said flippantly and he nodded in thesame spirit. 

"I know a little house in St. John's Wood that would serve usbeautifully as a prison, " he said. "It has ten rooms and two admirablebathrooms. There is central heating and a large shady garden, and if youwill only let me take you before a Justice of the Peace, or even acommonplace clergyman----"

She shook her head. 

"That isn't prison, " she said quietly and put her hand over the table. 

He caught it in his and held it tight. 

"Maisie, " he said, "you know I love you. I love you more dearly thananything in the world. "

She did not speak. 

"As my wife, " he went on, "you would be safe and I should be happy. Ijust want you all the time. "

Gently she disengaged her hand, shaking her head with a little smile. 

"What would that mean, Stafford?" she said. "You know you are deceivingme when you agree that my father----" again her voice shook--"no, no, "she said, "it would ruin your career to have the daughter of a convictfor your wife. I realise very well what it will mean, for I know--Iknow--I know!"

"What do you know?" he asked in a low voice. 

"I know that all my work will be in vain. But I must go on with it. Imust, or I shall go mad. I know nothing on earth can clear my father, but I'm not going to tell you that again. I just want to think there isa possibility that some miracle will happen, that all the evidencewhich even I have against him will be explained away. "

He took her unresisting hand in his, and under the cover of thetablecloth held it tight. 

"That is why I wanted to leave the service, " he said, and she looked athim quickly. 

"Because you thought that it would mean ruin?"

He smiled. 

"No, not that. It would hurt you, that is all. Of course, if such athing happened I would be obliged to resign. "

"And you'd never forgive yourself. "

"I wanted to anticipate such a happening, and, darling, you've got toface the future without any other illusions. "

She winced at the word "other" but he went on, unnoticing:

"Boundary is a tiger. If he thinks there is reason to fear you, he willnever let up on you till he has you in his grip. I tell you this, " hesaid earnestly, "that for all the power of the police, for all theirorganisation and the backing which the law gives them, they may behelpless against this man if he has marked you down for punishment. "

"I'm not afraid, " she said quietly. 

"But I am, " said he. "I'm so afraid, that I'm sick with apprehensionsometimes. "

"Poor Stafford!" she said softly, and there was a look in her eyes whichcompensated him for much. "But you mustn't worry, dear. Truly, truly, you mustn't worry. I'm quite capable of looking after myself. "

"And that's the greatest of all your illusions, " he said, half-laughingly and half-irritably. "You're just the meekest littlemouse that ever came under the paw of a cat. "

She shook her head smilingly. 

"But I tell you I'm speaking seriously, " he went on. "I'll do my best tolook after you. I'll have a man watching you day and night. "

"But you mustn't, " she protested. "There's no immediate cause forworry. "

He saw her to the door of the restaurant and showed her into thetaxi-cab which came at his whistle, and she leant out of the window andwaved her hand in farewell as she drove off. 

Two men stood on the opposite side of the road and watched her depart. 

"That's the girl, " said Crewe. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE TAKING OF MAISIE WHITE

A week passed without anything exceptional happening, and Maisie Whitehad ceased even to harbour doubts as to her own safety--doubts which hadbeen present, in spite of the courageous showing she had made beforeStafford King. Undeterred by her previous experience, she had madearrangements with another and a more responsible detective agency andhad chosen a new watcher, though she had small hopes of obtainingresults. She knew his task was one of almost insuperable difficulty, andshe was frank in exposing to him what those difficulties were. Still, there was a faint chance that he might discover something, and moreovershe had another purpose to serve. 

She had seen Pinto Silva once. He had called, and she had noticed withsurprise that the debonair, self-confident man she had known, whose airof conscious superiority had been so annoying to her, had undergone aconsiderable change. He was ill-at-ease, almost incoherent at moments, and it was a long time before she could discover his business. 

This time she received him in her tiny sitting-room, for Pinto wassomehow less alarming to her than he had been. Perhaps she was consciousthat at the corner of the street stood a quietly dressed man doingnothing particular, who was relieved at the eighth hour by an even lessobtrusive-looking gentleman from Scotland Yard. 

She waited for Pinto to disclose his business, and the Portuguese wasapparently in no hurry to do so. Presently he blurted it out. 

"Look here, Maisie, " he said, "you've got things all wrong. Things aregoing to be very rotten for you unless--unless----" he floundered. 

"Unless what?" she asked. 

"Unless you make up with me, " he said in a low voice. "I'm not so bad, Maisie, and I'll treat you fair. I've always been in love with you----"

"Stop, " she said quietly. "I dare say it is a great honour for a girlthat any man should be in love with her, but it takes away a little ofthe compliment when the man is already married. "

"That's nothing, " he said eagerly. "I can divorce her by the laws of mycountry. Maisie, she hates me and I hate her. "

"In those circumstances, " she smiled, "I wonder you wait until you fallin love again before you get divorced. No, Mr. Silva, that story doesn'tconvince me. If you were single or divorced, or if you were ever soeligible, I would not marry you. "

"Why not?" he demanded truculently. "I've got money. "

"So have I, " she said, "of a sort. "

"My money's as clean as yours, if it is Solomon White's money. "

She nodded. 

"I'm well aware of that, too, " she said. "It is Gang money, isn'tit--loot money. I don't see what good I shall get out of exchanging minefor yours, anyway. It is just as dirty. The money doesn't come into itat all, Mr. Silva, it is just liking people well enough--for marriage. And I don't like you that way. "

"You don't like me at all, " he growled. 

"You're very nearly right, " she smiled. 

"You're a fool, you're a fool!" he stormed, "you don't know what'scoming to you. You don't know. "

"Perhaps I do, " she said. "Perhaps I can guess. But whatever is comingto me, as you put it, I prefer that to marrying you. "

He started back as though she had struck him across the face, and heturned livid. 

"You won't say that when----"

He checked himself and without another word left the room, and sheheard his heavy feet blundering down the stairs. 

And then she met him again. It was two nights after. She met him in ahorrible dream. She dreamt he was flying after her, that they were bothbirds, she a pigeon and he a hawk; and as she made her last desperatestruggle to escape, she heard his hateful voice in her ear:

"Maisie, Maisie, it is your last chance, your last chance!"

She had gone to bed at ten o'clock that night, and it seemed that shehad hardly fallen asleep before the vision came. She struggled to sit upin bed, she tried to speak, but a big hand was over her mouth. 

Then it was true, it was no dream. He was in the room, his hand upon hermouth, his voice in her ear. The room was in darkness. There was nosound save the sound of his heavy breathing and his voice. 

"They'll be up here in five minutes, " he whispered. "I can save you fromhell! I can save you, Maisie! Will you have me?"

She summoned all the strength at her command to shake her head. 

"Then keep quiet!"

There was a note of savagery in his voice which made her turn sick. 

For a second she filled her lungs to scream, but at that instant a massof cotton-wool was thrust over her face, and she began to breathe in asickly sweet vapour. Somebody else was in the room now. They wereholding her feet. The voice in her ear said:

"Breathe. Take a deep breath!"

She sobbed and writhed in an agony of mind, but all the time she wasbreathing, she was drawing into her lungs the chloroform with which thewool was saturated. 

At two o'clock in the morning a uniformed constable, patrolling hisbeat, saw an ambulance drawn up outside a house in Doughty Street. Hecrossed the road to make inquiries. 

"A case of scarlet fever, " said the driver. 

"You don't say, " said the sympathetic constable. 

The door opened and two men walked out, carrying a figure in a blanket. The policeman stood by and saw the "patient" laid upon a stretcher andthe back of the ambulance closed. Then he continued his walk to thecorner of the street, where he found, huddled up in a doorway, theunconscious figure of a Scotland Yard detective, whose observation hadbeen interrupted by a well-directed blow from a life preserver. 

CHAPTER XV

THE COMMISSIONER HAS A THEORY

"To all stations. Stop Ambulance Motor No. LKO 9943. Arrest and detaindriver and any person found therein. Warn all garages andreport. --COMMISSIONER. "

This order flashed from station to station throughout the night, andbefore the dawn, nine thousand policemen were on the look-out for themotor ambulance. 

"There's a chance, of course, " said Stafford, "but it is a poor chance. "

He was looking white and heavy-eyed. 

"I don't know, sir, " said Southwick, his subordinate. "There's always achance that a crook will do the obviously wrong thing. I suppose you'veno theory as to where they have gone?"

"Not out of town--of that I'm certain, " said King, "that is why thequest is so hopeless. Why, they'll have got to their destination hoursbefore the message went out!"

They were standing in the girl's bedroom, which still reeked withchloroform, and all the clues were piled together on the table. Therewere not many. There was a pad of cotton-wool, a half-empty bottle ofchloroform, bearing the label of a well-known wholesaler, and one of apair of old wash-leather gloves, which had evidently been worn bysomebody in his desire to avoid leaving finger-prints. 

"We've not much to go on there, " said Stafford disconsolately; "thechloroform may have been sold years ago. Any chemist would have suppliedthe cotton-wool, and as for the glove"--he picked it up and looked at itcarefully, then he carried it to the light. 

Old as it was, it was of good shape and quality, and when new hadprobably been supplied to order by a first-class glove-maker. 

"There's nothing here, " said Stafford again, and threw the glove back onthe table. 

A policeman came into the room and saluted. 

"I've cycled over from the Yard, sir. We have had a message asking youto go at once to Sir Stanley Belcom's private house. "

"How did Sir Stanley know about this affair?" asked Stafford listlessly. 

"He telephoned through, sir, about five o'clock this morning. He oftenmakes an early inquiry. "

Stafford looked round. There was nothing more that he could do. Hepassed down the stairs into the street and jumped on to the motor-cyclewhich had brought him to the scene. 

Sir Stanley Belcom lived in Cavendish Place, and Stafford had been afrequent visitor to the house. Sir Stanley was a childless widower, whowas wont to complain that he kept up his huge establishment in order tojustify the employment of his huge staff of servants. Stafford suspectedhim of being something of a sybarite. His dinners were famous, hiscellar was one of the best in London and because of his acquaintancesand friendships in the artistic sets, he was something of a dabbler inthe arts he patronised. 

The door was opened and an uncomfortable-looking butler was waiting onthe step to receive Stafford. 

"You'll find Sir Stanley in the library, sir, " he said. 

Despite his sorrow, Stafford could not help smiling at this attempt onthe part of an English servant to offer the conventional greeting inspite of the hour. 

"I'm afraid we've got you up early, Perkins, " he said. 

"Not at all, sir. "

The man's stout face creased in a smile. 

"Sir Stanley's a rare gentleman for getting up in the middle of thenight and ordering a meal. "

Stafford found his grey-haired chief, arrayed in a flowered silkdressing-gown, balancing bread on an electric toaster. 

"Bad news, eh, Stafford?" he said. "Sit down and have some coffee. Thegirl is gone?"

Stafford nodded. 

"And our unfortunate detective-constable, who was sent to watch, ishalf-way to the mortuary, I presume?"

"Not so bad as that, sir, " said Stafford, "but he's got a pretty badcrack. He's recovered consciousness but remembers nothing thathappened. "

Sir Stanley nodded. 

"Very scientifically done, " he said admiringly. "This, of course, is thework of the Boundary Gang. "

"I wish----" began Stafford between his teeth. 

"Save your breath, my friend, " smiled Sir Stanley; "wishing will donothing. You could arrest every known member of the gang, and they'dhave twenty alibis ready, and jolly good alibis too. It is years sincethe colonel staged an outrage of this kind and his right hand has notlost its cunning. Look at the organisation of it! The men get into thehouse without attracting the attention of your watcher. Then, at theexact second that the ambulance is due, along comes their 'cosher, 'knocks down the policeman on duty. I don't suppose the thing took morethan ten minutes. Everything was timed. They must have known the hourthe policeman on the beat passed along the street. "

Sir Stanley poured out the coffee with his own hands, and relapsed backinto his armchair. 

"Why do you think they did it?"

"They were afraid of her, sir, " said Stafford. 

Sir Stanley laughed softly. 

"I can't imagine Boundary being afraid of a girl. "

"She was Solly White's daughter, " said Stafford. 

"Even then I can't understand it, " replied the chief, "unless--by jove!Of course. "

He hit his knee a smack and Stafford waited. 

"Probably they've got some other game on, but I'll tell you one of theideas of taking that girl--it is to bring back Solomon White. Hedisappeared, didn't he?"

Stafford nodded. 

"That's the game--to bring back Solomon White. And whatever the dangerto himself, he'll be in London to-morrow as soon as this news is known. "

Sir Stanley sat thinking, with his chin in his hand, his foreheadwrinkled. 

"There's some other reason, too. Now, what is it?"

Stafford guessed, but did not say. 

"That girl will take some recovering before harm comes to her, " said SirStanley softly, "your only hope is that friend Jack comes to yourrescue. "

"Jack o' Judgment?"

Sir Stanley nodded and the other smiled sadly. 

"That's unlikely, " he said; "indeed, it is impossible. I think I mightas well tell you my own theory as to why she was taken and why Boundarytook so much trouble to capture her. "

"What is your theory?" asked Sir Stanley curiously. 

"My theory, sir, is that she is Jack o' Judgment, " said Stafford King. 

"She--Jack o' Judgment?"

Sir Stanley was on his feet staring at him. 

"Impossible! It is a man----"

"You seem to forget, sir, " said Stafford, "that Miss White is awonderful mimic. "

"But why?"

"She wants to clear her father. She told me that only a week ago. Andthen I've been making inquiries on my own. I found that she was seencoming out of the Albemarle mansion, the night that Jack made his lastvisit to Boundary's flat. "

Sir Stanley rose. 

"Wait, " he said and left the room. 

Presently he came back with something in his hand. 

"If Miss White is Jack o' Judgment, and if she were captured to-night, how do you account for this? it was under my pillow when I woke up. "

He laid on the table the familiar Jack of Clubs. 

CHAPTER XVI

IN THE TURKISH BATHS

Colonel Boundary had a breakfast party of three. Though he had been upthe whole of the night, he showed no signs of weariness. Not so Pinto orCrewe, who looked fagged out and all the more tired because they wereboth conspicuously unshaven. 

"Half the game's won, " said the colonel. "We'll get rid of this girl andSolly White by the same stroke. I'm afraid of Solly, he knows too much. By the way, Raoul is coming over. "

"Raoul!" said Crewe, sitting up suddenly, "why, colonel, you're mad!Didn't the Scotland Yard man tell you----"

"That he suspected a French hand in the case of 'Snow' Gregory? All themore reason why Raoul should come, " said the colonel calmly; "he oughtto report this morning. "

"You're taking a risk, " growled Pinto. 

"Nothing unusual, " replied the colonel, shelling a plover's egg. "It isthe last thing in the world they would suspect at Scotland Yard aftertheir warning, that I should bring Raoul over again. Besides, they don'tknow him anyway. He's just a harmless young French cabinet-maker. Hedoesn't talk and I will get him out of the silly habit of leaving hisvisiting-card. "

There was a silence, which Crewe broke. 

"You want him for----"

He did not finish the sentence. 

"For work, " replied the colonel. "It is a thousand pities, but it wouldbe a thousand times more so if you and I were jugged, and waiting in thecondemned cell for the arrival of Mr. Ellis, the eminent hangman. Raoul's a workman. We can trust him. He doesn't try any funny business. He lives out of this country and I can cover his tracks. Besides, " thecolonel went on, "I shall give him enough to live in comfort for thenext two years. Raoul is a grateful little beast, and thank God! he canneither read nor write. "

"I don't like it, " said Crewe. "I hate that kind of thing. Why not giveSolly a chance? Why not get up a fight--a duel, anything butcold-blooded murder?"

The colonel turned his cold eyes upon the other, and his lips parted ina mirthless smile. 

"You're speaking up to your character now, aren't you, Crewe?" he saidunpleasantly. "You're 'Gentleman Crewe' once again, eh? Want to doeverything in the public school fashion? Well, you can cut out all thatstuff and feed it to the pigs. I'm Dan Boundary, looking forward to apleasant old age. There's nothing of the Knights of the Round Tableabout me. "

Crewe flushed. 

"All right, " he said, "have it your own way. "

"You bet your life I'm going to have it my own way, " said the colonel. "Have you seen the girl this morning, Pinto?"

Pinto shook his head. 

"You'll keep away from there for a couple of days. I've got Boyton onthe spot and he'll be feeding her with bromide till she won't carewhether she's in hell or Wigan. Besides, we'll all be shadowed for thenext day or two, make no mistake about that. Stafford King won't let thegrass grow under his feet. And now, you chaps, go home and try to lookas though you've had a night's rest. "

After their departure the colonel made his own preparations. There wereTurkish baths in Westminster and it was to the Turkish baths he went. Clad in a towel, he passed from hot room to hot room, and finally cameto the big, vaulted saloon, tiled from floor to roof, where incanvas-backed chairs the bathers doze and read. The colonel lay back inhis chair, his eyes closed, apparently oblivious to his surroundings. Nor was it to be observed that he saw the thin little man who came andsat beside him. The new-comer was sallow-skinned and lantern-jawed, andhis long arms were tattooed from shoulder to wrist. 

"Here!" said a soft voice in French. 

The colonel did not open his eyes. He merely dropped the palm fan whichhe was idly waving to and fro so that it hid his mouth. 

"Do you remember a Monsieur White?" he said in the same tone. 

"Perfectly, " replied the other. "He was the man who would not have yourlittle 'coco' friend--disposed of. "

"That is the man, " said the other. "You have a good memory, Raoul. "

"Monsieur, my memory is wonderful, but alas! one cannot live on memory, "he added sententiously. 

"Then remember this: there is a place near London called Putney Heath. "

"Putney Heath, " repeated the other. 

"There is a house called Bishopsholme. "

"Bishopsholme, " repeated the other. 

"It is empty--to let, _à louer_, you understand. It is in a sad state ofdesolation. The garden, the house--you know the kind of place?"

"Perfectly, monsieur. "

"At nine o'clock to-night and at nine o'clock to-morrow night you willbe near the door. There is a large clump of bushes, behind which youwill stand. You will stay there until ten. Between those hours M. Whitewill approach and go into the house. You understand?"

"Perfectly, monsieur, " said the voice again. 

"You will shoot him so that he dies immediately. "

"He is a dead man, " said the other. 

There was a long pause. 

"I will pay you sixty thousand francs, and I will have a motor-car totake you direct to Dover. You will catch the night boat for Ostend. Yourpassport will be in order, and you can make your way to Paris at yourleisure. The payment you will receive in Paris. Is that satisfactory?"

"Eminently so, monsieur, " said the other. "I need a little for expensesfor the moment. Also I wish information as to where the motor-car willmeet me. "

"It will be waiting for you at the corner of the first road past thehouse, on the way from London. You will not speak to the chauffeur andhe will not speak to you. In the car you will find sufficient money foryour immediate needs. Is there any necessity to explain further?"

"None whatever, monsieur, " said the soft voice, and Raoul dropped hishead on one side as though he were sleeping. 

As for the colonel, he did not simulate slumber, but passed intodreamland, sleeping quietly and calmly, with a look of benevolence uponhis big face. 

The only other occupant of the cooling room, a big-framed man who wasreading a newspaper, closed his eyes too--but he did not sleep. 

CHAPTER XVII

SOLOMON COMES BACK

At nine o'clock that night the colonel, in immaculate evening-dress, satplaying double-dummy bridge with his two companions. In the light of thebig shaded lamp overhead there was something particularly peaceful andinnocent in their occupation. No word was spoken save of the game. 

It was a quarter to nine, noted the colonel, looking at the littleFrench clock on the mantelpiece. He rose, walked to the window andlooked out. It was a stormy night and the wind was howling down thestreet, sending the rain in noisy splashes against the window panes. Hegrumbled his satisfaction and returned to the table. 

"Did you see the paper?" asked Pinto presently. 

"I saw the paper, " said the colonel, not looking up from his hand. "Imake a point of reading the newspapers. "

"You see they've made a feature of----"

"Mention no names, " said the colonel. "I know they've made a featureabout it. So much the better. Everything depends----"

It was as he spoke that Solomon White came into the room. Boundary knewit was he before the door handle turned, before the hum of voices in thehall outside had ceased, but it was with a great pretence of surprisethat he looked up. 

"Why, if it isn't Solomon White!" he said. 

The man was haggard and sick-looking. He had evidently dressed in ahurry, for his cravat was ill-tied and the collar gaped. He strodeslowly up to the table and Boundary's manservant, with a little grin, closed the door. 

"Where have you been all this time, Solomon?" asked Boundary genially. "Sit you down and play a hand. "

"You know why I've come, " breathed Solomon White. 

"Surely I know why you've come. You've come to explain where you'vebeen, old boy. Sit down, " said Boundary. 

"Where is my daughter?" asked White. 

"Where is your daughter?" repeated the colonel. "Well, that's a queerquestion to ask us. _We've_ been saying where is Solomon White all thistime. "

"I've been to Brighton, " said the man, "but that's nothing to do withit. "

"Been at Brighton? A very pleasant place, too, " said Boundary. "And whatwere you doing at Brighton?"

"Keeping out of your way, damn you!" said White fiercely. "Trying tocure the fear of you which has made a rank coward of me. If you wantedto find a method for curing me, colonel, you've found it. I've come backfor my daughter--where is she?"

The colonel pushed his chair back from the table and looked up with aquizzical smile. 

"Now you're not going to take it hard, Solomon, " he said. "We had tohave you back and that was the only scheme we could think of. You see, there are lots of little bits of business that have to be cleared up, bits of business in which you had a hand the same as my other businessassociates. "

"Where is the girl?" asked the man steadily. 

"Well, I'm going to admit to you, " said the colonel, with a fine show offrankness, "that I've put her away--no harm has come to her, youunderstand. She's at a little place at Putney Heath, a house I tookspecially for her, surrounded by loving guardians----"

"Like Pinto?" asked the man, looking down at the silent Silva. 

"Like Lollie. Now you can't deny that Lollie's a very nice girl, " saidthe colonel. "Sit down, Solomon, and talk things over. "

"When I've got my girl I'll talk things over with you. Where is thisplace?"

"It is on Putney Heath, " said the colonel. "Now aren't I beingstraightforward with you? If I had any bad designs against the girl, should I tell you where she is? If you go there, Solomon, take some ofyour copper friends. "

"I have no copper friends, " said the man angrily. "You know that wellenough. What am I that I should go to the police? Can I go to them withclean hands?"

"Well, that's a question I've often asked myself, " said the colonel. "I've often said----"

"What is the name of the house?" interrupted White. "I want to seewhether you're playing square with me, Boundary, and if you're not, by----"

"Don't threaten me, don't threaten me, Solomon, " said the colonel with agood-humoured gesture. "I'm a nervous man and I suffer from heartdisease. You ought to know better than that. Bishopsholme is the place. It is the fourth big house after passing Tredennis Road--a fine villastanding in its own grounds. It looks a bit deserted because it wasempty until a few days ago, when I put a scrap or two of furniture intoit. Why not wait----"

"First I'll find out whether you're speaking the truth, and if you'renot----"

"Gently, gently, " growled Crewe. "What's the good of kicking up a row, White? The colonel's dealing straighter with you than you're dealingwith us. "

He was not in the colonel's secrets, and he himself was deceived, thinking that the girl had been removed to the house which he now heardabout for the first time, and that the sole object of the abduction wasto bring White back. 

"Stay a while, " said Boundary. "It is only just nine----"

But White was gone. 

He pushed past the servant, one of the readiest and most dangerous ofthe colonel's instruments, and into the half-dark corridor. There was alight on the landing below, and as he ran down the stairs he thought hesaw somebody standing there. It looked like a woman till the figureturned, and then Solomon White stood stock still. It was the first timehe had seen Jack o' Judgment. The shimmer of the black silk coat, thecurious suggestion of pallor which the white mask conveyed, the slouchhat, throwing a black bar of shadow diagonally across the face, lent thefigure a peculiarly sinister aspect. 

"Stand!"

The voice was commanding, the glittering revolver in the figure's handmore so. 

"Who are you?" gasped Solomon White. 

"Jack o' Judgment! Have you ever heard of little Jack?" chuckled thefigure. "Oh, here's a new one--Solomon White, too, and never heard ofJack o' Judgment! Didn't you see me when they took me out of 'Snow'Gregory's pocket? Little Jack o' Judgment!"

Solomon White stepped back, his face twitching. 

"I had nothing to do with that, " he said hoarsely, "nothing to do withthat, do you hear?"

"Where are you going? Won't you tell Jack something, give him a bit ofnews? Poor old Jack hears nothing these days, " sighed the figure, laughter bubbling between the words. 

"I'm going on private business. Get out of my way, " said the other, remembering the urgency of his mission. 

"But you'll tell Jack o' Judgment?" wheedled the figure, "you'll tellpoor old Jack where you are going to find your beautiful daughter?"

"You know!" said the man. 

He took a step forward, but the revolver waved him back. 

"You'll speak, or you don't pass, " said Jack o' Judgment. "You don'tpass until you speak; do you hear, Solomon White?"

The man thought. 

"It is a place called Bishopsholme, " he said gruffly, "on Putney Heath. Now let me pass. "

"Wait, wait!" said the figure eagerly, "wait for me--only five minutes!I won't keep you! But don't go, there's death there, Solomon White! Itis waiting for you--don't you feel it in your bones?"

The voice sank to a whisper, and in spite of himself, a cold shiverpassed down White's spine. He half-turned to go back. 

"Wait!" said the figure again eagerly, fiercely. "I shall not keep you aminute--a second!"

Solomon White stood irresolutely, and the mask seemed to melt into thedarkness. White strained his ears to catch the soft patter of its shoesas it mounted the stairs, but no sound came. Then with a start he seemedto awake as if from a bad dream, and without another word strode downthe remaining stairs into the night. 

On the landing above, the strange being who called himself "Jack o'Judgment" stood outside the door of Boundary's flat. He had taken a keyfrom his pocket and had it poised, when he heard the clatter of theother's feet. He stood undecidedly, but only for a second, then the keyslipped into the lock and the door opened. The butler from his littlepantry saw the figure and slammed his own door, bolting it withtrembling fingers. 

In a second Jack o' Judgment was in the room facing the paralysed trio. 

He spoke no word, but suddenly his right arm was raised, some shiningobject flew from his hand, and there was a crash of glass and instantlya vile odour. On the opposite wall where the bottle had broken appeareda dark and irregular stain. 

Then, without so much as a laugh, he stepped back through the door andraced down the stairs in pursuit of White. It was too late; the man haddisappeared. Jack o' Judgment stood for a moment listening, then heslipped off the black coat and ripped off the mask. The coat was of thefinest silk, for he rolled it into the space of a pocket-handkerchiefand slipped it in his pocket. The handkerchief went the same way. Ifthere had been observers, they would have caught a glimpse of a man inevening dress as he went swiftly down the half-lighted stairway. 

He turned and walked in the shadow of the building and passed down aside street, where a big limousine was awaiting him. He gave a murmureddirection to the driver, and the car sped on its way. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE JUDGMENT OF DEATH

Solomon White had a taxi waiting, and gave his directions. He wassufficiently loyal to the band to avoid calling especial attention tothe house where the girl was imprisoned, and he told his cab to wait atthe end of Putney Heath. The night was wild and boisterous and verydark, but he carried an electric torch, and presently he came toweather-stained gates bearing in letters which had half-faded the namehe sought. He pushed open the gate with some trouble. There was acurving carriage-drive which led to the front door, which stood at thehead of a flight of steps under a square and ugly portico. 

He looked up at the building, but it was in darkness. Apparently it wasempty, but he knew enough of the colonel's methods to know that Boundarywould not advertise the presence of the girl to the outside world. 

He stood hesitating, wondering. The whole thing might be a trap, butSolomon White was not easily scared. He took a revolver from his pocket, drew back the hammer and walked forward cautiously. There was no sign oflife. The rustling of shrubs and trees was the only mournful sound whichvaried the roar of the storm. 

He was opposite the door, and one foot was raised to surmount the firststep, when there came a sound like the sharp tap of a drum. 

"Rap-rap!"

Solomon White stood for fully a second before he crumbled and fell, andhe was dead before he reached the ground. 

Still there was no sign or sound of life. A church clock boomed out thequarter to ten. A motor-car went past, and then the laurel bushes by theside of the steps moved, and a man in a black mackintosh stepped out. Hebent over the dead man, picked up the fallen torch and flashed the lighton the dead man's face, then, with a grunt of satisfaction, RaoulPontarlier unscrewed his Soubet silencer and slipped his automatic intothe wet pocket of his mackintosh. 

Feeling in an inside pocket for a cigarette, he found one and lit itfrom the smouldering end of a tinder-lighter. Then, carefully concealingthe lighted cigarette in the palm of his hand, he walked softly andnoiselessly down the drive, keeping to the shadow of the bushes andwatching to left and right for signs of approaching pedestrians. At twopoints he could see the heath road, and nobody was in sight. There wasplenty of time, and men had been ruined by haste. He reached the gateand carefully looked over. The road was deserted. His hand was on thegate, when something cold and hard was pushed against his ear and heturned round. 

"Put up your hands!" said a mocking voice. "Put them up!"

The Frenchman's hands rose slowly. 

"Now turn round and face the house. Quick!" said the voice. "_Marchez!_Halt!"

Raoul stopped. If he could only get his hands down and duck, onelightning dive.... 

His captor evidently read his thoughts, for he felt a hand slip into hismackintosh pocket, and he was relieved of the weight of his automatic. 

"Go forward, up the steps. Stop!"

The stranger had seen the huddled figure of White, and stooped over him. He made no comment. He knew the man was dead before his hands hadtouched him. 

"Mount the steps, _canaille!_" said the voice, and Raoul walked slowlyup the steps of the house and halted with his face against the door. 

A hand came up under his uplifted arm and sought the keyhole. A fewminutes' fumbling until the prongs of the skeleton key had found itscorresponding wards, and then the door swung open, emitting a scent ofmustiness and decay. 

"_Marchez!_" said the stranger, and Raoul walked forward and heard thedoor slam behind him. 

The house was not empty, in the sense that it was unfurnished. Theunknown was using an electric torch of extraordinary brilliancy, andrevealed a dilapidated hall-stand and a musty chair. He took a briefsurvey and then:

"Down those stairs!" he said, and the murderer obeyed. 

They were in the kitchen now, and again the bright light gleamed about. The windows were heavily shuttered, the grate was rusty, and a few oddpieces of china on the sideboard were dirty. There was a gas bracket inthe centre over a large deal table, and this the stranger turned on. Heheard the hiss of escaping gas, struck a match and lit it, and then forthe first time Raoul gazed in fear and astonishment upon the man whoheld him. 

"Monsieur, " he stammered, "who are you?"

The masked figure slipped his hand into his pocket and flicked a cardupon the table, and Raoul, looking down, saw the Jack of Clubs, and knewthat his end was near. 

 * * * * *

For three hours the Frenchman had lain on the floor, tied hand and foot, a gag in his mouth, and the clocks were striking two when Jack o'Judgment came back. This time he wore neither mask nor coat but over hisarm he carried a coil of fine rope. Raoul watched him, fascinated, as hewalked about the kitchen, whistling softly to himself, and now and againbreaking into scraps of song. 

"Monsieur, monsieur, " blubbered the terrified man, "I would make aconfession. I will make a statement before the judge----"

Jack o' Judgment smiled. 

"You shall make a statement before your judge, for I am he, " he said, "and I think this is the place. "

He glanced up at the high roof of the kitchen, for there was a stouthook, where in old times heavy sides of bacon hung. He drew the tableunder the place and put a chair on top. Then he mounted, and with askillful cast of his rope caught the hook and drew the rope slowlythrough. He did not move the table or take any notice of the man on thefloor, but stood as a workman might stand who was calculating distances, and all the time he whistled softly. 

"Monsieur, monsieur, for God's sake spare me! I will make reparation!"

"You speak truly, " said the other without taking his eyes from the rope, "for it is reparation you make this night for two dead men, and Godknows how many besides. "

"Two?"

The murderer twisted his head. 

"For a man called Gregory particularly, " said Jack o' Judgment, "shotdown like a mad dog. "

"I was paid to do it. I knew nothing against him, I had no malice in myheart, " said the man eagerly. 

"Nor have I, " said Jack o' Judgment, "for behold! I shall kill youwithout passion, as a warning to all villains of all nationalities. "

"This is against the law, " whined the man, beads of sweat standing onhis forehead. "Give me a knife and let me fight you. You coward!"

"Give Solomon White a pistol, and let him fight you, " said the other. "It is against the law--well, I know it. But it is much more speedy thanthe law, my little cabbage!"

He was busy making a slip-knot at one end of the rope, and presently hehad finished it to his satisfaction. 

"Raoul Pontarlier, " he said, "this is a moment for which I have waited. "

The man screamed and twisted his head, but the noose was about his neckand tightening. Then with a wrench Jack o' Judgment jerked him to hisfeet. 

"On to the table, " he said sternly. "Mount! It is quicker so!"

"I will not, I will not!" yelled the Frenchman. His voice rose to ashrill scream. "I--help!... Help!... "

Half an hour later Jack o' Judgment came down the dark path, stoppingonly for a second to look upon the figure of Solomon White. 

"God have mercy on you all!" he said soberly, and passed into the night. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE COLONEL IS SHOCKED

"The Putney mystery, " said the _Daily Megaphone_, "surpasses any ofrecent years in its sensational character. There is a touch of thebizarre in this grim spectacle of the dead man at the door of the emptyhouse, and the swaying figure of his murderer hanging in the kitchen, with no other mark of identification than a playing card pinned to hisbreast. 

"The tragedy can be reconstructed up to a point. Mr. White was evidentlykilled in the garden by the Frenchman who was found hanging. Theautomatic pistol in his pocket, which had recently been discharged, might support this theory even if the police had not found tracks of hisfeet in the laurels. But who hanged the man Raoul with a hangman's rope?That is the supreme mystery of all. The Putney police can offer noinformation on the subject, and Scotland Yard is as reticent. Thecircumstances of the discovery are as follows. At three o'clock on themorning of the 4th, Police-Constable Robinson, who was patrolling hisbeat, entered the garden, as is customary when houses are empty, to seeif any doors had been forced. There had been an epidemic of burglariesin the region of Putney Heath during the past two or three months, andthe police are exercising unusual vigilance in relation to these houses. The constable might not have made his inspection that night but for thefact that the garden gate had been left wide open.... "

Here followed an account of how the body was found and how furtherinvestigation led the constable to the kitchen to make his secondgruesome discovery. 

Colonel Boundary folded up the paper slowly and put it down. He hadbought a copy of an early edition of the evening newspaper as he wasstepping into his car, and now he was driving slowly through the park. He lit a cigar and gazed stolidly from the window. But his face showedno sign of mental perturbation. 

The car had made the circuit of the Park twice when, turning again byMarble Arch, he saw Crewe standing on the sidewalk. A word to hischauffeur, and the machine drew up. 

"Come in, " he said curtly, and the other obeyed. 

The hand that he lifted to take his cigarette from his lips trembled, and the colonel eyed him with quiet amusement. 

"They've got you rattled too, have they?" he said. 

"My God! It's awful!" said Crewe. "Awful!"

"What's awful about it?" asked the colonel. "White's dead, ain't he? AndRaoul's dead, ain't he? Two men who might talk and give a lot oftrouble. "

"What did he say before he died? That's what I've been thinking. Whatdid he say?"

"Who? Raoul?" demanded the colonel. He had asked himself the samequestion before. "What could he say? Anyway, if he had a statement tomake, and his statement was worth taking, why, he'd be alive to-day!Raoul was the one witness that they wanted, if they only knew it. They've bungled pretty badly, whoever they are. "

"This Jack o' Judgment, " quavered Crewe, his mouth working. "Who is he?What is he?"

"How do I know?" snarled the colonel. "You ask me these foolquestions--do you expect a reply? They're dead, and that's done with. I'd sooner he killed Raoul than made a mess of my room, anyway!"

"Why did he do it?" asked Crewe. 

The colonel growled something about fools and their questions, butoffered no explanation. 

"It may have been a monkey trick to make us change, our quarters--thestuff was sulphuretted hydrogen and asafoetida. It may have been justbravado, but if he thinks he can scare me----"

He sucked viciously at his cigar end. 

"I've got workmen in to strip the walls and re-paper the bit that'ssoiled, " he said. "I'll be back there to-night. "

The colonel threw the end of his cigar from the window and relapsed intomoody reverie. When he spoke it was in a more cheerful tone. 

"Crewe, " he said, "that guy at Scotland Yard has given me an idea. "

"Which guy?" asked Crewe, steadying his voice. 

"The First Commissioner, " said the colonel, lighting another cigar. "Heparticularly wanted to know if 'Snow' had any relations. Curse 'Snow'!"he said between his teeth, and dropping his mask of urbanity. "I wishhe'd--well, it doesn't matter; he's dead, anyway--he's dead. "

"Relations?" said Crewe. "Did you tell him anything?"

"I told him all I knew, and that was very little, " said the colonel, "but it struck me that Sir Stanley knows much more about this fellow'Snow' than we do. At any rate, somebody's been making inquiries, and Iguess that somebody is the fellow who settled Raoul. "

"Jack o' Judgment?"

"Jack o' Judgment, " repeated the colonel grimly. "You showed 'Snow'Gregory into the gang--what do you know about him?"

Crewe shook his head. 

"Very little, " he said. "I met him in Monte Carlo. He was down and out. He seemed a likely fellow--educated, a gentleman and all that sort ofthing--and when I found that he'd hit the dope, I thought he'd be thekind of man you might want. "

The colonel nodded. 

"He never talked about his relations. The only thing I know was that hehad a father or an uncle, who was in India, and I gathered that he hadforged his name to a bill. When I arrived in Monte Carlo he wasspending the money as fast as he could. I guess that was why he calledhimself Gregory, for I'm sure it wasn't his name. "

"You're sure he never spoke of a brother?"

"Never, " said Crewe; "he never talked about himself at all. He wasgenerally under the influence of dope or was recovering from it. "

The colonel pushed back his hat and rubbed his forehead. 

"There must be some way of identifying him, " he said. "He came fromOxford, you say?"

"Yes, I know that, " said Crewe; "he spoke of it once. "

"What house in Oxford? There are several colleges, aren't there?"

"From Balliol, " said Crewe. "I distinctly remember him talking aboutBalliol. "

"What year would that be?"

Crewe reflected. 

"He left college two years before I met him at Monte Carlo, " he said;"that would be----" He gave the year. 

"Well, it is pretty simple, " said the colonel. "Send a man to Oxford andget the names of all the men that left Balliol in that year. Find outhow many you can trace, and I dare say that will narrow the search downto two or three men. Now get after this at once, Crewe. Spare noexpense. If it costs half a million I'm going to discover who Mr. Jacko' Judgment is when he's at home. "

He dismissed Crewe and gave fresh instructions to his driver, and tenminutes later he was stepping out of his limousine at the entrance toScotland Yard. 

Stafford King was not in, or at any rate was not available. Greatlydaring, the colonel sent his card to the First Commissioner. Sir StanleyBelcom read the name and raised his eyebrows. 

"Show him in, " he said, and for the second time the colonel was usheredinto the presence of the chief. 

"Well, colonel, " said Sir Stanley, "this is rather a dreadfulbusiness. "

"Terrible, terrible!" said the colonel, shaking his head. "Solomon Whitewas one of my best friends. I've been searching for him for weeks. "

"So I've heard, " said Sir Stanley dryly. "Have you any theory?"

"None whatever. "

"What about this man called Raoul? Is he unknown to you?" asked SirStanley. 

"That's what I've come to see you about, sir, " said the colonel in aconfidential tone. "You remember the last time I was here, you suggestedthat possibly the murderer of poor Gregory might be a Frenchman. _You_remember how you told me that these French assassins have a trick ofleaving some fantastic card or sign of their handiwork?"

Sir Stanley nodded. 

"Well, here you have the same thing repeated, " said the coloneltriumphantly, "and the identical card. Do you think, sir, that themurderer of my poor friend Gregory and my poor friend White was the sameman?"

"In fact, Raoul?" asked Sir Stanley. 

The colonel nodded, and for a few moments Sir Stanley communed with hiswell-kept finger-nails. 

"I don't think it will do any harm if I tell you that that is my theoryalso, Colonel Boundary, " he said, "and, giving confidence forconfidence, would you have any objection to telling me whether Raoul isone of your--er--business associates?"

There was just the slightest shade of irony in the last two words, butthe colonel preferred to ignore it. 

"I'm very glad you asked me that question, sir, " he said with a sigh, sopalpably a sigh of relief that the recording angel might be excused ifhe were deceived. "I have never seen Raoul before. In fact, my knowledgeof Frenchmen is a very small one. I do very little business in France, and I certainly do no business at all with men of that class. "

"What class?" asked the other quickly. 

The colonel shrugged his big shoulders. 

"I am only going on what the newspapers say, " he said. "They suggestthat this man is an apache. "

"You do not know him?" asked Sir Stanley after a pause. 

"I have never seen him in my life, " said the colonel. 

Again Sir Stanley examined his finger-nails as though searching for someflaw. 

"Then you will be surprised to learn, " he drawled at last, "that you satnext to him in the cooling-room of the Yildiz Turkish Baths. "

The colonel's heart missed a beat, but he did not flinch. 

"You surprise me, " he said. "I have only been to the Turkish baths onceduring the past three months, and that was yesterday. "

Sir Stanley nodded. 

"According to my information, which was supplied to me by my very ableassistant, Mr. Stafford King, that was also the morning when Raoul wasseen to enter that building. "

"And he sat next to me?" said the colonel incredulously. 

"He sat next to you, " said Sir Stanley, with evidence of enjoyment. 

"Well, that is the most amazing coincidence, " exclaimed the colonel, "Ihave ever met with in my life! To imagine that that scoundrel satshoulder to shoulder with me--good heavens! It makes me hot to thinkabout it. "

"I was afraid it would, " said the First Commissioner. 

He pressed the bell and his secretary came in. 

"See if Mr. Stafford King is in the building, and tell him to come tome, please, " he said. "You see, colonel, we were hoping you would supplyus with a great deal of very useful information. We naturally thought itwas something more than a coincidence that this man and you shouldforegather at a Turkish bath--a most admirable rendezvous, by the way. "

"You may accept my word of honour, " said Colonel Boundary impressively, "that I had no more idea of that man's presence, or of his identity, orof his very existence, than you had. "

Stafford King came in at that moment, and the colonel, noting thehaggard face and the look of care in the dark-lined eyes, felt a certainamount of satisfaction. 

"I've just been telling the colonel about his meeting in the Turkishbaths, " said Sir Stanley. "I suppose there is no doubt at all as to thathappening?"

"None whatever, sir, " said Stafford shortly. "Both the colonel and thisman were seen by Sergeant Livingstone. "

"The colonel suggests that it was a coincidence, and that he has neverspoken to the man, " said Sir Stanley. "What do you say to that, King?"

Stafford King's lips curled. 

"If the colonel says so, of course, it must be true. "

"Sarcasm never worries me, " said the colonel. "I'm always getting intotrouble, and I'm always getting out again. Give a dog a bad nameand----"

He stopped. There arose in his mind a mental picture of a man swingingin an underground kitchen, and in spite of his self-control heshuddered. 

"And hang him, eh?" said Sir Stanley. "Now, I'm going to put matters toyou very plainly, colonel. There have been three or four very unpleasanthappenings. There has been the death of the chief witness for the Crownagainst you; there has been the death of this unhappy man White, who wasclosely associated with you in your business deals, and who had recentlybroken away from you, unless our information is inaccurate; there is thedeath of Raoul, who was seen seated next to you and apparently carryingon a conversation behind a fan. "

"He never spoke a word to me, " protested the colonel. 

"And we have the disappearance of Miss White, which is one of the mostimportant of the happenings, because we have reason to believe that MissWhite, at any rate, is still alive, " said Sir Stanley, taking no noticeof the interruption. "Now, colonel, you may or may not have the key toall these mysteries. You may or may not know who your mysterious friend, the Jack o' Judgment----"

"He's no friend of mine, by heaven!" said the colonel, and neither mandoubted that he spoke the truth. 

"As I say, you may know all these things. But principally at this momentwe are anxious to secure authentic news concerning Miss White. Both Iand Mr. Stafford King have particular reasons for desiring informationon that subject. Can you help us?"

The colonel shook his head. 

"If by spending a hundred thousand pounds I could help you, I would doit, " he said fervently, "but as to Miss White and where she is, I am asmuch at sea as you. Do you believe that, sir?"

"No, " said Sir Stanley truthfully; "I don't. "

CHAPTER XX

"SWELL" CREWE BACKS OUT

The colonel left Scotland Yard with a sense that he had spent themorning not unprofitably. It was his way to beard the lion in his den, and after all, the police department was no more formidable than anyother public department. He spent the morning quietly in Pinto's flat, making certain preparations. The workmen were making a thorough job ofhis damaged wall, as he found when he looked in, and the horrible odourhad almost disappeared. It was to be a much longer job than he thought. It had been necessary to cut away and replace the plaster under thepaper for the infernal mixture had soaked deep. Still the colonel hadplenty to occupy his mind. What he called his legitimate business hadbeen sadly neglected of late. Reports had come in from all sorts ofagencies, reports which might by careful study be turned to the greatestadvantage. There was the affair of Lady Glenmerrin. He had been monthsaccumulating evidence of that lady's marital delinquencies, and now theiron was ready to strike--and he simply had no interest in a deal whichmight very easily transfer the famous Glenmerrin Farms to his charge ata nominal figure. 

And there were other prospects as alluring. But for the moment thecolonel was mainly interested in the stock value of Colonel Dan Boundaryand the possibility of violent fluctuations. He was losing grip. Thestory of Jack o' Judgment had circulated with amazing rapidity, by allmanner of underground channels, to people vitally concerned. Crewe, whohad been a stand-by in almost every big coup he had pulled off, was asstable as pulp. White his right-hand man, was dead. Pinto--well, Pintowould go his own way just when it suited him. He had no doubt whateveras to Pinto's loyalty. Silva had big estates in Portugal, to which hewould retire just when things were getting warm and interesting. Moreover, the British Government could not extradite Pinto from hisnative land. 

The colonel found himself regretting that he had missed the opportunityof taking up American citizenship during the seven years he had spent inSan Francisco. And what of Crewe? Crewe was to reveal himself mostunmistakably. He came in in the late afternoon and found the colonelworking through the litter on his desk. 

"Have you started your search at Oxford?" asked the colonel. 

"I've sent two men down there--the best men in London, " replied Crewe. 

He drew up a chair to the desk and flung his hat on a near-by couch. 

"I want to have a little talk with you, colonel. "

Boundary looked up sharply. 

"That sounds bad, " he said. "What do you want to talk about? Theweather?"

"Hardly, " said Crewe. A little pause, and then: "Colonel, I'm going toquit. "

The colonel made no reply. He went on writing his letter, and not untilhe reached the end of the page and carefully blotted the epistle did hemeet Crewe's eyes. 

"So you're going to quit, are you?" said Boundary. "Cold feet?"

"Something like that, " said Crewe. "Of course, I'm not going to leaveyou in the lurch. "

"Oh, no, " said the colonel with elaborate politeness, "nobody's going toleave me in the lurch. You're just going to quit, that's all, and I'vegot to face the music. "

"Why don't you quit too, colonel?"

"Quit what?" asked Boundary. "And how? You might as well ask a tree toquit the earth, to uproot itself and go on living. What happens when Iwalk out of this office and take a first-class state-room to New York?You think the Boundary Gang collapses, fades away, just dies off, eh?The moment I leave there's a squeal, and that squeal will be loud enoughto reach me in whatever part of the world I may be. There are a dozenhandy little combinations which will think that I am double-crossingthem, and they'll be falling over one another to get in with the firsttale. "

Crewe licked his dry lips. 

"Well that certainly may be in your case, colonel, but it doesn't happento be in mine. I've covered all my tracks so that there's no evidenceagainst me. "

"That's true, " said the colonel. "You've just managed to keep out oftaking an important part. I congratulate you. "

"There's no sense in getting riled about it, " said Crewe; "it has justbeen my luck, that's all. Well, I want to take advantage of this luck. "

"In what way?"

"I'm out of any bad trouble. The police, if they search for a millionyears, couldn't get a scrap of evidence to convict me, " he said, "evenif they'd had you when Hanson betrayed you, they couldn't have convictedme. "

"That's true, " said the colonel again. He shook his head impatiently. "Well, what does all this lead to, Crewe? Do you want to bedemobilised?" he asked humorously. 

"That's about the size of it, " said Crewe. "I don't want to be inanything fresh, and I certainly don't want to be in this----"

"What?"

"In this Maisie White business, " said Crewe doggedly. "Let Pinto do hisown dirty work. "

"My dirty work too, " said the colonel. "But I reckon you've overlookedone important fact. "

"What's that?" demanded Crewe suspiciously. 

"You've overlooked a young gentleman called Jack o' Judgment, " said thecolonel, and enjoyed the look of consternation which came to the other'sface. "There's a fellow that doesn't want any evidence. He hanged Raoulall right. "

"Do you think he did it?" said Crewe in a hushed voice. 

"Do I think he did it?" The colonel smiled. "Why, who else? And when hecomes to judge you, I guess he's not going to worry very much aboutaffidavits and sworn statements, and he's not going to take you before amagistrate before he hands you over to the coroner. "

Crewe jumped to his feet. 

"What have I done?" he asked harshly. 

"What have you done? Well, you know that best, " said the colonel with awave of his hand. "You say the police haven't got you and haven't a caseagainst you. Maybe you're right. That Greek was saying the same sort ofthing to me. He was here this afternoon squealing about taking the girlto the Argentine, and wanted us to send the doctor, and he'll be waitingto meet us when we land. There's no evidence against him either. Maybethere's more evidence than you imagine. I wouldn't bank too much uponthe police passing you by, if I were you, Crewe. There's something aboutMr. Stafford King that I don't like. He's got more brains in his littlefinger than that dude commissioner has in the whole of his body. Hedoesn't say much, but I guess he thinks a lot, and I'd give something toknow what he's thinking about me just now. "

CHAPTER XXI

THE BRIDE OF DEATH

Time had long ceased to have any significance for Maisie White. Therewas daylight and nightlight. She seemed to remember that she had made agreat fight on the day she arrived at this strange house when thehard-faced nurses had strapped her to the bed, and an old man, withtrembling fingers, had pushed a needle into her arm. She remembered ithurt, and then she remembered very little else. She viewed life with adull apathy and without much understanding. She ceased to resent thepresence of the women who came and went, and even the uncleanly olddoctor no longer filled her with a sense of revulsion. She just wantedto be left alone to sleep, to dream the strangest dreams that any girlhad ever had. She did not know that this was the action of bromide ofpotassium, consistently administered in every drink she took, in everymorsel of food she ate. Bromide in bread, in coffee, in mashed potatoes, in rice, in all the vehicles by which the drug could be administered. 

Sometimes by reason of her sheer vitality she flung off the effects ofthe dope, and was keenly conscious of her surroundings. There was onegirl who came and went, a pretty girl with fluffy golden hair, wholooked at her dispassionately and made no reply to the questions withwhich Maisie plied her. And once she had seen Pinto and would havescreamed, but they stopped her in time. One night the old doctor hadcome into the room very drunk. He was crying and moaning in a maudlinfashion about some mysterious position which he had lost, and he had saton the bed and, cursed his passion for strong drink with such vehemencethat she, in her half-dazed state of mind, had found herself interestedagainst her will. 

In one of her lucid intervals she had realised a vital fact, that shewas under the influence of a drug, and instinctively knew that she wasbecoming more and more immune to its action. She formed a vague plan, which she had almost forgotten the next morning. She must always besleepy, almost dazed; she must never show signs of returningconsciousness. She had been a week in the "nursing home" before she madethis plan. She could lie now with her eyes shut, picking up the threads. She heard somebody talk of a ship and of a passport, and learned thatshe was to be removed in another week. She could not find where, but itwas somewhere on a ship. She tried once, when the nurses were out of theroom, to get out of bed and walk to the window. Her legs gave waybeneath her, and it was with the greatest difficulty that she managed tocrawl back to bed. 

There was no escape that way. There was no help either from the nurseswho were not nurses at all, nor from the maudlin little doctor, nor fromthe pretty girl who came sometimes and looked down on her withundisguised contempt--or was it pity? Then one night she woke in afright. Two people were talking. She half turned her head and saw thatPinto was in the room, and his face was a flaming fury. She had seenthat look before, but now his rage was directed at somebody else, andwith a start she recognised the pretty girl that the nurses calledLollie. 

"You're not in this, Lollie, " said the man, and she laughed. 

"That's just where you're wrong, Silva, " she replied. "I'm very much init. What happens to this girl when she leaves here heaven only knows--Iguess it's up to the colonel. But while she's here I'm looking afterher. "

"You are, are you?" he said between his teeth. "Well, now you can go andtake a walk. "

"I can also take a seat too, " she said. 

He walked over to her and glowered down at the girl, and she puffed acloud of cigarette smoke in his face. 

"I'm a crook because it pays me to be a crook, " said the girl calmly. "If it's jollying along one of the colonel's blue-eyed innocents, orkeeping a watchful eye upon Mr. King, or acting trustful maiden to somepoor fool from the country--why, I'm ready and willing, because that'smy job. But this is a different matter altogether. If the colonel saysshe's got to go abroad, why, I suppose she's got to go. But she's notgoing to be on my conscience, that's all, " said Lollie. 

They passed through the door into a smaller room where the nightwatchers sat. She made as though to sit at the table when he gripped herarm and swung her round. She put up her hands to defend herself, but wasthrown against the wall, and his grip was on her throat. 

"Do you know what I'll do for you?" he hissed. 

"I don't care what you do, " she said. She was on the verge of tears. "You're not going into that room--you're _not_ going!"

She sprang at him, but with a snarl like a wild beast, he turned andstruck her, and she fell against the wall. 

"Now get out"--he pointed to the door--"get out and don't show your facehere again. And if you've got any information, you can report it to thecolonel and see what he's got to say to you!"

She slunk from the room. Pinto went back to the room where the girl lay. 

"Cover your head with a blanket, my pretty?" he said. "Pinto must notsee that pretty face, eh?"

He laid hold of the blanket's edge and pulled it gently down. But theblanket would not come away. It was being clutched tightly. With a jerkhe wrenched it down, then stumbled backwards to the floor, a grotesqueand ludicrous figure, for the white silk mask of Jack o' Judgmentconfronted him and the hateful voice of his enemy shrilled:

"I'm Death! Jack o' Judgment! Poor old Jack! Jack, the hangman! You'llmeet him one day, Pinto--meet him now!"

Pinto collapsed--he had fainted. 

CHAPTER XXII

MAISIE TELLS HER STORY

"There is one fact which I would impress upon you, " said Sir StanleyBelcom, addressing the heads of his departments at the early morningconference at Scotland Yard, "and it is this, that the criminal has ninechances against the one which the law possesses. He has the initiativein the first place, and if he fails to evade detection, the law giveshim certain opportunities of defence and imposes certain restrictionswhich prevent one taking a line which would bring the truth of hisassertions or denials to light. It protects him; it will not admitevidence against him; it will not allow the jury to be influenced by therecord of his previous crimes until they have delivered their verdictupon the one on which he stands charged; in fact, gentlemen, thecriminal, if he were intelligent, would score all the time. "

"That's true enough, sir, " said Cole, of the Record Office. "I've neveryet met a criminal who wasn't a fool. "

"And you never will till you meet Colonel Boundary, " said Sir Stanleywith a good-natured smile, "and the reason you do not meet him isbecause he is not a fool. But, gentlemen, every criminal has one weakspot, and sooner or later he exposes the chink in his armour to thesword of justice--if you do not mind so theatrical an illustration. Here, again, I do not think that Boundary will make any such exposure. One of you gentlemen has again brought up the question as to theprosecution of the Boundary Gang, and particularly the colonel himself. Well, I am all in favour of it, though I doubt whether the HomeSecretary or the Public Prosecutor would agree with my point of view. Wehave a great deal of evidence, but not sufficient evidence to convict. We know this man is a blackmailer and that he engages in terrorising hisunfortunate victims, but the mere fact that we know is not sufficient. We need the evidence, and that evidence we have not got. And that iswhere our mysterious Jack o' Judgment is going to score. He knows, andit is sufficient for him that he _does_ know. He calls for nocorroborative evidence, but convicts and executes his judgment withoutrecourse to the law books. I do not think that the official police willever capture Boundary, and if it is left to them, he will die sanctifiedby old age and ten years of comfortable repentance. He will probably endhis life in a cathedral town, and may indeed become a member of the towncouncil--hullo, King, what is the matter?"

Stafford King had rushed in. He was dusty and hot of face, and there wasa light of excitement in his eyes. 

"She's found, sir, she's found!"

"She's found?" Sir Stanley frowned. "To whom are you referring? MissWhite?"

Stafford could only nod. 

With a gesture the commissioner dismissed the conference. Then:

"Where was she found?" he asked. 

"In her own flat, sir. That is the amazing thing about it. "

"What! Did she come back herself?"

Stafford shook his head. 

"It is an astonishing story, sir. She was, of course, detained and heldprisoner somewhere, and last night--she will not give me anydetails--she was carried from the house where she had been keptprisoner. She had an awful experience, at which she only hints, poorgirl! Apparently she fainted, and when she came to she was in amotor-car being carried along rapidly. And that is about all she'll tellme. "

"But who brought her away?" asked the commissioner. 

Again Stafford shook his head. 

"For some reason or other she is reticent and will give no informationat all. It is evident she has been drugged, for she looks wretchedlyill--of course, I haven't pressed her for particulars. "

"It is a strange story, " said the commissioner. 

"I have a feeling, " Stafford went on, "that she has given a promise toher unknown rescuer that she will not tell more than is necessary. "

"But it is necessary to tell the police, " said the commissioner, "andeven more important for the young lady to tell her--fiancé, I hope, King?"

The young man reddened and smiled. 

"I agree with you that this is not the moment when you can cross-examinethe girl, but I want you to see her as soon as you possibly can and tryto induce her to tell you all she knows. "

 * * * * *

Maisie White lay on the sofa in her own room. She was still weak, butoh! the relief of being back again and of ending that terrible nightmarewhich had oppressed her for--how long? Even the depressing effect of thedrug could not quench the exaltation of finding herself free. She wentover the details of the night one by one. She must do it, she thought. She must never lose grip of what happened or forget her promise. 

First she recalled seeing the weird figure of Jack o' Judgment. He hadlifted her from the bed and had laid her on the floor. She rememberedseeing him slip beneath the blankets, and then Pinto had come. Sherecalled the cracked voice of her rescuer, his fantastic language. 

She had awakened to consciousness to find herself in a big car which waspassing quickly through the dark and deserted streets. She had norecollection of being carried from the room or of being handed to thethick-set man who stood on a ladder outside the open window. All sherecalled was her waking to consciousness and seeing in the half-lightthe gleam of a white silk handkerchief. 

She was too dazed to be terrified, and the soft voice which spoke intoher ear quelled any inclinations she might have had to struggle. Forthe man was holding her in his arms as tenderly as a brother might holda sister, or a father a child. 

"You're safe, Miss White, " said the voice. "Do you understand? Are youawake?"

"Yes, " she whispered. 

"You know what I have saved you from?"

She nodded. 

"I want you to do something for me now. Will you?" She nodded again. "Are you sure you understand?" said the voice anxiously. 

"I quite understand, " she replied. 

She could have almost smiled at his consideration. 

"I am taking you to your home, and to-morrow your friends will know thatyou have returned. But you're not to tell them about the house wherethey have kept you. You must not tell them about Silva or anybody thatwas in that house. Do you understand?"

"But why?" she began, and he laughed softly. 

"I am not trying to shield them, " he said, answering her unspokenthought, "but if you give information you can only tell a little, andthe police can only discover a little, and the men can only be punisheda little. And there's so much that they deserve, so many lives they haveruined, so much sorrow they have caused, that it would be a hideousinjustice if they were only punished--a little. Will you leave them tome?"

She struggled to an erect position and stared at him. 

"I know you, " she whispered fearlessly; "you are Jack o' Judgment. "

"Jack o' Judgment!" he laughed a little bitterly. "Yes, I am Jack o'Judgment. "

"Who are you?" she asked. 

"A living lie, " he replied bitterly, "a masquerader, a mummer, anobody. "

She did not know what impelled her to do the thing, but she put out herhand and laid it on his. She felt the silky smoothness of the glove andthen his other hand covered hers. 

"Thank you, " he said simply. "Do you think you can walk? We are justturning into Doughty Street. We've passed the policeman on his beat; heis going the other way. Can you walk upstairs by yourself?"

"I--I'll try, " she said, but when he assisted her from the car shenearly fell, and he half carried, half supported her into her room. 

He stood hesitating near the door. 

"I shall be all right, " she smiled. "How quickly you understand mythoughts!"

"Wouldn't it be well if I sent somebody to you--a nurse? Have you thekey I gave you?"

"How did you get it?" she asked suddenly, and he laughed again. 

"Jack o' Judgment, " he mocked, "wise old Jack o' Judgment! He haseverything and nothing! Suppose I send a nurse to you, a nice nurse. Icould send the key to her by messenger. Would you like that?"

She looked doubtful. 

"I think I would, " she said with a weak smile. "I am not quite sure ofmyself. "

He did not take off the soft felt hat which was drawn tightly over hisears, nor did he remove his mask or cloak. She was making up her mind totake a closer stock of him, when unexpectedly he backed towards thedoor, and with a little nod was gone. He had left her on the couch, andthere she was, half dozing and half drugged when the matronly nurse fromSt. George's Institute arrived half an hour later. 

Stafford called in the afternoon and was surprised and delighted tolearn that he could speak to the girl. He found her looking better andmore cheerful. He bent over and kissed her cheek, and her hand soughthis. 

"Now, I'm going to be awfully official, " he laughed, "I want you to tellme all sorts of things. The chief is very anxious that we should lose notime in getting your story. "

She shook her head. 

"There's no story to tell, Stafford, " she said. 

"No story to tell?" he said incredulously. "But weren't you abducted?"

She nodded. 

"There's that much you know, " she said; "I was abducted and taken away. I have been detained and I think drugged. "

"No harm has come to you?" he asked anxiously. 

Again she shook her head. 

"But where did they take you? Who was it? Who were the people?"

"I can't tell you, " she said. 

"You don't know?"

She hesitated. 

"Yes, I think I know, but I can't tell you. "

"But why?" he asked in astonishment. 

"Because the man who rescued me begged me not to tell, and, Stafford, you don't know what he saved me from. "

"He--he--who was it?" asked Stafford. 

"The man called Jack o' Judgment, " said the girl slowly, and Staffordjumped up with a cry. 

"Jack o' Judgment!" he said. "I ought to have guessed! Did you see hisface?" he demanded eagerly. 

She shook her head again. 

"Did he give you any clue as to his identity?"

"None whatever, " she replied with a little gleam of amusement in hereyes. "What a detective you are, Stafford! And I thought you were comingdown here to tell me"--the colour went to her cheeks--"well, to tell methe news, " she added hastily. "Is there any news?"

"None, except----"

Then he remembered that she knew nothing whatever of her father's deathand its tragic sequel, and this was not the moment to tell her. Later, when she was stronger, perhaps. 

She was watching him with trouble in her eyes. She had noted how quicklyhe had stopped and guessed that there was something to be told which hewas withholding for fear of hurting her. Her father was uppermost inher mind and it was natural that she should think of him. 

"Is there any news of my father?" she asked quietly. 

"None, " he lied. 

"You're not speaking the truth, Stafford. " She put her hand on his arm. "Stafford, is there any news of my father?"

He looked at her, and she saw the pain in his face. 

"Why don't you wait a little while, and I'll tell you all the news, " hesaid with an assumption of gaiety. "There have been several fashionableweddings----"

"Please tell me, " she said, "Stafford. I've been for weeks under theinfluence of a drug, and somehow it has numbed pain, even mental pain, and perhaps you will never find me in a better condition to hear--theworst. "

"The worst has happened, Maisie, " he said gently. 

"He has been arrested?" she asked. 

He shook his head. 

"No, dear, worse than that. "

"Not--not suicide?" she said between her set teeth. 

Again he shook his head. "He is dead, " he said softly. 

"Dead!"

There was a long silence which he did not break. 

"Dead!" she said again. "How?"

"He was shot by--we think it was by a member of the Boundary Gang, a mannamed Raoul. "

She looked up at him. 

"I have never heard my father speak of him. "

"He was a man imported from France, according to our theory. "

"And was he captured?"

"He was killed too, " said Stafford; "he was caught in the act andinstantly executed. "

"By whom?" she asked. 

"By Jack o' Judgment, " replied Stafford. 

"Jack o' Judgment!" She breathed the words. "And I--I never thanked him!I never knew!"

He told her the story step by step of the discovery which the police hadmade and the theories they had formed. 

"He was lured there, " said the girl. 

She did not cry. She seemed incapable of tears. 

"He was lured there and murdered, and Jack o' Judgment slew hismurderer? Poor father! Poor, dear daddy!"

And then the tears came. 

Half an hour later he left her in charge of the nurse and went back toScotland Yard to report. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE GANG FUND

The news of the girl's escape had been received in another quarter. Colonel Boundary had sat in his favourite chair and listened withoutcomment to Pinto's halting explanation. 

"Oh, they went out of the window and down a ladder, did they?" said thecolonel sarcastically when the Portuguese had finished, "and you had afit on the mat, I suppose? Well, that's a hell of a fine story! And whatdid you do? You who were plastered all over with guns? Couldn't youshoot?"

"Did you shoot when you saw Jack o' Judgment?" said the other sullenly. "It is no good your telling me what I ought to do. "

"Maybe it isn't, " said the colonel. "Well, there's nothing to do now, anyway. The girl's gone, and all your fine plans have come unstuck. "

"They weren't my plans, " said Pinto indignantly, "it was your schemethroughout. "

The colonel bit off the end of his cigar and contemplated the ceilingreflectively. 

"We can only wait and see what will happen, " he said. "The odds are allin favour of our being raided. "

Pinto went pale. 

"Yes, " said the colonel, talking to himself, "I guess this is our lastday of freedom. Well, Pinto, I hope you can pick oakum. "

"Oh, shut up about oakum, " growled the other; "it isn't a joke. "

"It is not a joke, " said the colonel, "and if it is, it is one of thosejokes that make people laugh the most. And do you know the kind of jokethat makes people laugh the most, Pinto? It is when somebody gets hurt;and we are the people who are going to get hurt. "

"Do you think she'll tell the police?"

"It is extremely likely, " said the colonel; "in fact, it is extremelyunlikely that she won't tell the police. I am rather glad I'm out ofit. "

Pinto leaped up. 

"You're out of it!" he shouted. "You're in it up to the neck!"

The colonel shook his head. 

"I'm absolutely out of it, Pinto, " he said, flicking the ash of hiscigar into the fireplace. "I cannot be identified with this unhappyaffair by so much as a finger-print. "

The Portuguese scowled down at him. 

"So that's the game, is it? You're going to double-cross us? You'regoing to be out of it and we're going to be in it. "

"Sit down, you fool. Double-cross you! You are easily scared at a littleleg-pulling. I'm merely pointing out that it is not a matter in which Iam greatly interested. It is a good thing for you I'm not. Who are thepolice after? You and Crewe and the rest of the gang? Not on your life!They're after me. They get the trunk and all the branches come down withit. Do you see? There's no sense in lopping off a few branches even ofdeadwood. It won't be good enough if they connect you with the case, unless they connect me too. They're after the big horns, they're notshooting the little bucks. If she tells the police, they're going tonose around for two or three days, seeing how far they can connect mewith it. And if there's any connection--the slightest, Pinto--why, they'll pinch you without a doubt, but they'll pinch me too. "

The colonel blew a blue ring of smoke into the air and watched it floatto the ceiling. 

"The advantage of having a business associate like me is that I'm a sortof insurance to you little crooks. I am the big fish they're trying tohook, and their bait isn't the kind of bait that you'd swallow. "

"I've burnt all the papers I had, " explained Pinto, "and covered mytrail. "

"When you burnt your boats and came in with me, " said the colonel, "youburnt everything that was worth burning. I tell you it isn't you they'retrailing. It is me or nothing. Maybe they'll scare you, " he saidreflectively, "hoping you'll turn King's evidence. I've got a feelingthat you won't--if I had a feeling the other way about, Pinto, youwouldn't see the curtain rise at the Orpheum to-night. And now, " saidthe colonel, "we'll go out. "

He rose abruptly, walked into his bedroom, and came out wearing hisbroad felt hat. He found Pinto biting his finger-nails nervously andlooking out of the window. 

"I don't want to go out, " said Pinto. 

"Come out, " said the colonel. "What's the good of staying here, anyway?Besides, if they are going to pinch you, I don't want them to pinch youin my rooms. It would look bad. "

They walked downstairs into the street, and a few minutes later werestrolling across the Green Park, the colonel a picture of a contentedbourgeoisie with his half-smoked cigar, and his hands clasped togetherunder the tails of his alpaca coat. 

"I don't see how you can say they've no evidence against you. SupposeCrotin squeals?"

"He ain't stopped squealing yet, " said the colonel philosophically, "butI don't see what difference it makes. Pinto, you haven't got the hang ofmy methods, and I doubt if you ever will. You're a clever, usefulfellow, but if you were allowed to run the gang, you'd have it in gaolin a month. Take Crotin, " he said. "I dare say he's feeling sore, andmaybe this damned Jack o' Judgment person is standing behind him tellinghim----" He stopped. "No, he wouldn't either, " he said after a moment'sthought, "Jack o' Judgment knows as much about it as I do. "

"What are you talking about?" asked the other impatiently. 

"Crotin, " said the colonel; "he hasn't any evidence against me. Yousee, I do not do any business by letters. You fellows have often wantedme to write to this person and that, but writing is evidence. Do you getme? And what evidence has Crotin? Absolutely none. I have never writtena line to him in my life. Crewe brought him down to the flat. We gavehim a dinner and put the proposal to him in plain language. There'snothing he could take before a judge and jury--absolutely nothing. "

He took the cigar from his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke. 

"That's the way I've built the business up--no letters, no documents, nothing that a lawyer can make head or tail of. "

"What about the documents that Hanson talked about?"

The colonel frowned and then laughed. 

"They're nothing but records of our transactions, and they're notevidence. Why, even the police have given up the search for them. By theway, I haven't done with Crotin, " he said after a while. 

"He's done with you, I should think, " said Pinto grimly. 

The colonel nodded. 

"I guess so, but he hasn't done with the gang. You can take him onnext. "

"I?" said Pinto in affright. "Now look here, colonel, don't you thinkit's time we laid low----"

"Laid low!" said the colonel scornfully. "We're either going to get intotrouble or we're not. If we're not going to get into trouble, we mightas well go on. Besides, we want the money. The business has slackenedoff, and we haven't had a deal since the Spillsbury affair, and thatwon't last very long. We've got to split our loot six ways, Pinto, andthat leaves very little for anybody. "

"Where are you going now?" asked the other, as the colonel changed hisdirection. 

"It just struck me that we might as well go over to the bank and seehow our balance stands. Also, with the exchange going against us, I wantto tell Ferguson to buy dollars. "

The handsome premises of the Victoria and City Bank in Victoria Streetwere only a stone's throw from the park; and, whatever might be theviews of Ferguson, the manager, as to the colonel's moral character, hehad a considerable respect for him as a financier, and Dan Boundary wasshown immediately into the manager's office. 

He was gone some time, whilst Pinto waited impatiently outside. Thecolonel never invited other members, even of the inmost council, toshare his knowledge of finances. They all knew roughly the condition ofthe exchequer, but really the balance at the Victoria and City was thecolonel's own. It was the practice of the Boundary Gang (as wassubsequently revealed) to share, after each coup, every man taking thatto which he was entitled. The money was split between five, the sixthshare going to what was known as the Gang Account, a common fund uponwhich all could draw in moments of necessity. 

The Gang Fund was not so described in the books of the bank. It wasknown as "Account B. " The expenses of operations were usually paid outof the colonel's private account, and credited to him when the share-outcame. He was absolute master of his own balance, but it required threesignatures to extract a cheque from Account B. One of the objects of thecolonel's visit was to reduce this number to two, the death of SolomonWhite having removed one of the signatories. 

He returned to Pinto, apparently not too well satisfied. 

"There's quite a lot of money in the Gang Account, " he said. "I'vestruck off Solly's name, and your signature and mine, or mine andCrewe's, is sufficient now. "

"Or mine and Crewe's, I suppose?" suggested Pinto, and the colonelsmiled. 

"Oh, no, " said he. "I'm not a great believer in the indispensability ofany man, but I'm making the signature of Dan Boundary indispensablebefore that account is touched. "

They walked back through the park, and the colonel expounded hisphilosophy of wrong living. 

"The man who runs an honest business and mixes it with a little crookedwork is bound to be caught, " he said, "because his mind is concentratedon the unpaying side of the game. You've got to run a crook business inan honest way if you want to escape the law and pay big dividends. Theycall our system blackmail, but it ain't. A blackmailer asks forsomething for nothing, and he's bound to get caught sooner or later. Weoffer spot cash for all the things we steal, and that baffles the law. And we're not the only people in London, or in England, or in the world, who are pulling bargains by scaring the fellow we buy from. It is doneevery day in the City of London; it is done every day by the trusts thatcontrol the little shops in the suburbs; it is done even by the bigproprietary companies that tell a miserable little tradesman that, if hedoesn't stop selling one article, they won't supply him with theirs. Living, Pinto, is preying. The only mistake a crook ever makes is whenhe goes outside of his legitimate business and lets some otherconsideration than the piling up of money influence him. "

"How do you mean?" asked Pinto wearily. He hated the colonel when he wasin this communicative mood of his. 

"Well, " said the colonel slowly, "I shouldn't have been so keen to goafter Maisie White if it hadn't been that you were fond of her andwanted her. That's what I call letting love interfere with business. "

"But you said you were afraid of her blabbing. You don't put it on tome, " said the indignant Pinto. 

"I was and I wasn't, " said the colonel. "I think I almost persuadedmyself that the girl was a danger. Of course, she isn't. Even SolomonWhite wasn't a danger. "

He stopped dead, and, speaking slowly and pointing his words with ahuge forefinger on the other's chest, he said:

"Bear this fact in mind, Pinto, that I have no malice against MissWhite, and I don't think that she can harm me. As far as I'm concerned, I will never hurt a hair of her head or do her the slightest harm. Ibelieve that she has nothing against me, and I give orders to anybodywho's connected with me--in fact, to all of my business associates--thatthat girl is not to be interfered with. "

Slowly, emphatically, every word emphasised, the colonel spoke, butPinto did not smile. He had seen the colonel in this gentle mood before, and he knew that Maisie White was doomed. 

CHAPTER XXIV

PINTO GOES NORTH

Had Pinto been a psychologist, which he was not, he might have beenstruck by the unusual reference on the part of the colonel to the fundsof the gang. It was a subject to which the colonel very seldom referred, and it was certainly one which he did not emphasise. The truth was thatthe colonel's investigations into his own private affairs had not beenas satisfactory as he had hoped would be the case. 

He was in the habit of advancing money, and the gang owed him aconsiderable sum, money which had been advanced for the pursuit ofvarious enterprises. To draw that money would leave the Gang Fund sadlydepleted, and he could not afford to draw upon it at a moment when theywere all on edge. Not only were the two principal subordinates in thecondition of mind which led them to jump at every knock and start atevery shadow, but he had been receiving urgent messages from all partsof the country from the other men, and he had determined upon a stepwhich he had not taken for three years--a meeting of the full "Board" ofhis lawless organisation. 

That night summonses went forth calling his "business associates" to anExtraordinary General Meeting of the North European Smelter Syndicate. This was one of the companies which he operated, and the existence ofwhich was justified by a small smelting works in the North of England, and owed its international character to the fact that it had branchworks in Sweden. Its turnover was small, its list of stockholders wasselect. A summons to a General Meeting of the North European SmelterCompany meant that the affairs of the gang were critical, and in thisspirit the call was obeyed. 

The meeting was held in the banquet hall of a West End restaurant, andthe twenty men who assembled differed very little in appearance fromtwenty other provincial business men who might have been gathered todiscuss the affairs of any company. 

Their coming excited no comment, and apparently did not even arouse theattention of vigilant Scotland Yard. Nor, had the colonel's speech beentaken down by a shorthand writer and submitted to the police, could anysuggestion be found of the significance of the meeting. He spoke of thedifficulties of trading, of the "competition" with which the company wasfaced, and called upon all the shareholders to assist loyally theexecutive in a very critical and trying time. But those who listenedknew very well that the "competition" was the competition of the police, and they had their own ideas as to what constituted the trying time towhich the colonel made reference. 

It was a very commonplace, ordinary company meeting, which ended in aconventional way by a vote of confidence in the directors. It was whenthat had been passed, and the meeting had been broken up, and membersand officials were talking together, that the real business started. 

Then it was that Selby, the stout little man whose special job was toact as intermediary between the company and its more criminalenterprises, received his instructions to speed up. Selby was thereceiver of letters. A burglar or a pickpocket who acquired in thecourse of his activities documents and letters which had hitherto beenworthless found a ready market through Selby. Eighty letters out ofevery hundred were absolutely valueless, but occasionally they wouldfind a rich gem, a love letter discreetly cherished, on which a new"operation" would be based. Then would begin the torturing of a humansoul, the opening of new vistas of despair, the stage be cleared for anew tragedy. 

The colonel was to find that the chief anxiety of his "shareholders" wasnot as to the future of the company or as to the success of itstrading. Again and again he was asked a question couched in identicalwords, and again and again he replied with a shrug of his big shoulders:

"What's the good of worrying about a thing like that? Jack o' Judgmentis a crook! That's all he is, boys, a crook. He's not the sort of manwho'll go to the police and give us away; he wouldn't dare put his noseinside a police station. You leave him to us, we'll fix him sooner orlater. "

"But, " somebody asked uneasily, "what about Raoul, that fellow who waskilled at Putney?"

The colonel lifted his eyebrows. 

"Raoul, " he said; "he was nothing to do with us. I never heard thefellow's name until I read it in the paper. As to White"--he shruggedhis shoulders again--"we can't prevent people having private quarrels, and may be this Frenchman and White had one. My theory is, " he said, elaborating an idea which had only at that moment occurred to him, "thatRaoul, White and this Jack o' Judgment were working together. Maybe itisn't a bad thing that White was killed under the circumstances. "

He dropped his hand on the other man's shoulder and oozed geniality. 

"Now, back you go, my lads, and don't worry. Leave it to old Dan to fixJack o' Judgment, or Bill o' Judgment, or Tom o' Judgment, whoever hemay be, and that we'll fix him you can be certain. "

Coming away from the meeting, he expressed himself as being perfectlysatisfied with its results. He brought Pinto and Crewe back with him inhis car, and dropped the latter at Piccadilly Circus. Pinto would havebeen glad to have joined the "Swell, " but the colonel detained him. 

"I want to talk to you, Pinto, " he said. 

"I've had enough business for to-day, " said the Portuguese. 

"So have I, " said the colonel, "but that doesn't prevent my attending topressing affairs. I was talking to you to-day--or was ityesterday?--about Crotin. "

"The Yorkshire woollen merchant?" said Pinto. 

"That's the fellow, " replied the colonel. "I suggested you should go andsee him. "

"And I suggested that I shouldn't, " said Pinto; "let him rest. You'llnever get another chance like you had before. "

"Rest nothing, " said the colonel testily, "you're scared because youimagine Crotin is warned? What do you think?"

Pinto was silent. 

"I suppose you think that, because Jack o' Judgment intervened at theright moment, he went back to Yorkshire feeling full of himself? Well, you're wrong. You don't understand one side of the psychology of thisbusiness. That little fellow is quaking in his shoes and wondering whathis grand wife would say if the fact that he was a bigamist wasrevealed. And there's more reason for his fear to-day than ever therewas. Look here!"

He took a newspaper out of his pocket and Pinto remembered that, evenduring the meeting, the colonel had twice made reference to its columnsand had wondered why. He had suspected that there had been somereference to the Boundary Gang, but this was not the case. The paragraphwhich the colonel pointed out with his thick forefinger was this:

 "By the death of Sir George Tressillian Morgan an ancient baronetcy has become extinct. His estate, which has been sworn at over a million, passes to his niece, Lady Sybil Crotin, the daughter of Lord Westsevern, Sir George's son and heir having been killed in the war. Lady Sybil is the wife of a well-known Yorkshire mill-owner. "

"I didn't know that, " said Pinto, interested in spite of himself. 

"Nor did I till to-day, " said the colonel. "The fact is, this damnedJack o' Judgment has put everything else out of our minds. And you cansee for yourself, Pinto, that this business is important. "

Pinto nodded. 

"We are not only after the mill, but here's a chance of making a realbig coup. Now I can't send anybody else to Yorkshire--Crewe isimpossible. Crotin knows him, and the moment he puts in an appearance, as likely as not Crotin would lose his head and give the whole showaway. It is you or nobody. "

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 

"You know, there are times when I'm sorry about Solomon White, " he said, "he was the boy for this kind of business--that is to say in the olddays--he got a bit above himself towards the end. "

Pinto was to find that the colonel had made all arrangements, and thatfor the previous two days he had been planning a predatory raid on theYorkshireman. 

There was to be a bazaar in Huddersfield on behalf of a local hospital, in which Lady Sybil Crotin took a great interest. She was organising thefête and had invited subscriptions. 

"They're not coming in very fast, according to their local paper, " saidthe colonel, "and that has given me an idea. You're a presentable sortof fellow, Pinto, and it is likely you'll be all the more successfulbecause you're a foreigner. You'll go up to Yorkshire and you'll take athousand pounds, and if necessary you'll subscribe pretty liberally tothe fund, but it must be done through Lady Sybil. You can make yourselfknown to her and invite yourself to the house, where you can meet Crotinhimself. "

He made other suggestions, for he had worked out the whole scheme indetail for the other to carry into effect. Pinto's objections slowlydissipated. He was a vain man and had all the vices of his vanity. Adesire to be thought well of, to be regarded as a rich man when he wasin fact on the verge of ruin, had brought him into crooked practices andeventually into the circle of the colonel's acquaintances. 

To appear amongst the fair as a giver of largesse on a magnificent scalesuited him down to the ground. It was a part for which he was eminentlyfitted, as the colonel, a shrewd judge of humanity, knew quite well. 

"I'll take it on, " said Pinto, "but do you think he'll squeal?"

Boundary shook his head. 

"I never knew a man who was caught on the rebound to squeal, " he said. "No, no, you needn't worry about that. All you have to do is to use yourdiscretion, choose the right moment, preparing him by a few hints forwhat is coming, and you'll find he'll sit down, like the hard-headedbusiness man he is, and talk money. "

Pinto pulled a little face. 

"I know what you're thinking, " said the colonel. "You hate the idea ofthe generous donor being unmasked and appearing to anybody as ablackmailer. Well, you needn't worry about that. Lady Sybil will notknow, nor will anybody else that counts. And, believe me, Crotin doesn'tcount. Anyway, you can pretend that you're a perfectly innocent agent inthe matter, that you know me slightly and that I've dropped hints whichmade you curious and which you are anxious to verify. "

Pinto went off to make preparations for the journey. He had one of thetop flats in the Albemarle building, a suite of rooms which, if theywere not as expensively furnished as the colonel's, were more artistic. He had recently acquired the services of a new "daily valet"--a step hecould take without fear that his secrets would be betrayed, since he hadno secrets in his own rooms, kept no documents of any kind, and receivedno visitors. 

The man opened the door to his ring. 

"No, sir, nobody has been, " said the servant in answer to his query, andPinto was relieved. 

For the past two days he had been living in a condition bordering onpanic. It seemed unlikely that the colonel's confidence would bejustified and that the police would take no action. And yet theincredible had happened. There had not been so much as an inquiry; andnot once, though he had been on his guard, had he detected one shadowtrailing him. His spirits rose, and he whistled cheerfully as hedirected the packing of his trunk, for he was travelling North fullyequipped for any social event which might await him. 

"I am going to Yorkshire, " he explained. "I'll give you my addressbefore I leave, and you can let me know if there are any inquiries andwho the inquirers were. "

"Certainly, sir, " said the man respectfully, and Pinto eyed himapprovingly. 

"I think you'll suit me, Cobalt, " he said. "My last valet was rather afool and inclined to stick his nose into business which did not concernhim. "

The man smiled. 

"I shan't trouble you that way, sir, " he said. 

"Of course, there's nothing to hide, " said Pinto with a shrug, "but youknow what people are. They think that because you're associated inbusiness with Colonel Boundary you're up to all sorts of tricks. "

"That's what Mr. Snakit said, sir, " remarked the man. 

"Snakit?" said the puzzled Pinto. "Who the devil is Snakit?"

Then he remembered the little detective whom Maisie had employed and whohad been bought over by the colonel. 

"Oh, you see him, do you?" he asked carelessly. 

"He comes up, sir, now and again. He's the colonel's valet, isn't he, sir?"

Pinto grinned. 

"Not exactly, " he said. "I shouldn't discuss things with Snakit. Thatman is quite reliable and----"

"Anyway, sir, I should not discuss your business, " said the valet withdignity. 

He finished packing and, after assisting his master to dress, wasdismissed for the night. 

"A useful fellow, that, " thought Pinto, as the door closed behind theman. The "useful fellow" reached the street and, after walking a fewhundred yards, found a disengaged taxi and gave an address. Maisie Whitewas writing when her bell rang. It rang three times--two long and oneshort peals--and she went downstairs to admit her visitor. She did notspeak until she was back in her room, and then she faced the politelittle man whom Pinto had called Cobalt. 

"Well, Mr. Grey, " she said. 

"I wish you'd call me Cobalt, miss, " said the man with a smile. "I liketo keep up the name, otherwise I'm inclined to give myself away. "

"Have you found out anything?"

"Very little, miss, " said the detective. "There's nothing to find in theapartment itself. "

"You secured the situation as valet?"

He nodded. 

"Thanks to the recommendations you got me, miss, there was no difficultyat all. Silva wanted a servant and accepted the testimonials withoutquestion. "

"And you've discovered nothing?" she said in a disappointed tone. 

"Not in Mr. Silva's room. The only thing I found out was that he's goingto Yorkshire to-morrow. "

"For long?" she asked. 

"For some considerable time, " said the detective. 

"At least, I guess so, because he has packed half a dozen suits, tophats and all sorts of things which I should imagine he wouldn't takeaway unless he intended making a long stay. "

"Have you any idea of the place he's going to?"

"I shall discover that to-morrow, miss, " said Cobalt. "I thought I'dtell you as much as I know. "

"And you have not been into the colonel's flat?"

The man shook his head. 

"It is guarded inside and out, miss, now. He has not only his butler, who is a tough customer, to look after him, but he has Snakit, the manyou employed, I understand. "

"That's the gentleman, " said the girl with a little smile. "Very good, Cobalt--you'll 'phone me if you make any other discoveries. "

She was sitting at her solitary breakfast the next morning when thetelephone bell rang. It was from a call office, and presently she heardCobalt's voice. "Just a word, miss. He leaves by the ten-twenty-fivetrain for Huddersfield, " said the voice, "and the person he is going tosee is Lady Sybil somebody, and there's money in it. "

"How do you know?" she asked quickly. 

"I heard him speaking to the colonel on the landing and I heard thewords: 'He'll pay. '"

She thought a moment. 

"Ten-twenty-five, " she repeated; "thank you very much, Mr. Cobalt. "

She hung up the receiver and sat for a moment in thought, then passedquickly to her bedroom and began to dress. 

CHAPTER XXV

A PATRON OF CHARITY

Lady Sybil Crotin was not a popular woman. She was conscious that shehad married beneath her--more conscious lately that there had been nonecessity to make the marriage, and she had grown a little soured. Shecould never mix with the homely wives of local millionaires; sheprofessed a horror of the vulgarities with which she was surrounded, hated and loathed her lord and master's flamboyant home, which shedescribed as something between a feudal castle and a picture-palace; andopenly despised her husband's friends and their feminine relatives. 

She made a point of spending at least six months of the year away fromYorkshire, and came back with protest at her lot written visibly uponher face. 

A thin, angular woman, with pale green eyes and straight, tight lips, she had never been beautiful, but five or six years in an uncongenialenvironment had hardened and wasted her. That her husband adored her andnever spoke of her save in a tone of awe was common property and afavourite subject for local humour. That she regarded him with contemptand irritation was as well known. 

In view of Lady Sybil Crotin's unpopularity, it was perhaps a greatmistake that she should make herself responsible for the raising offunds for the local women's hospital. But she was under the impressionthat there was a magic in her name and station which would overcome whatshe described as shyness, but which was in point of fact the frankdislike of her neighbours. A subscription list that she had opened had aweak and unpromising appearance. She had with the greatest difficultysecured help for the bazaar, and knew, even though it had been openedby a duchess, that it was a failure, even from the very first day. 

Had she herself made a generous contribution to the bazaar fund, theremight have been a hope; but she was mean, and the big, bleak hall shehad chosen as the venue because of its cheapness was unsuitable for theentertainment she sponsored. 

On the afternoon of the second day, Lady Sybil was pulling on hergloves, eyeing her husband with an unfriendly gaze as he sat at lunch. 

"It was no more than I expected, " she said bitterly. "I was a fool everto start the thing--this is the last time I ever attempt to help localcharities. "

Mr. Crotin rubbed his bald head in perplexity. 

"They'll come, " he said hopefully, referring to the patrons whoseabsence was the cause of Lady Sybil's annoyance. "They'll come when theyhear what a fine show it is. And if they don't, Syb, I'll come along andspend a couple of hundred pounds myself. "

"You'll do no such thing, " she snapped; "and please get out of thatridiculous habit of reducing my name to one syllable. If the people ofthe town can't help to support their own hospital, then they don'tdeserve to have one, and I'm certainly not going to allow you to wasteour money on that sort of nonsense. "

"Have your own way, love, " said Mr. Crotin meekly. 

"Besides, " she said, "it would be all over the town that it was yourmoney which was coming in, and these horrid people would be laughing atme. "

She finished buttoning her gloves and was looking at him curiously. 

"What is the matter with you, John?" she asked suddenly, and he almostjumped. 

"With me, love?" he said with a brave attempt at a smile. "Why, there'snothing the matter with me. What should there be?"

"You've been very strange lately, " she said, "ever since you came backfrom London. "

"I think I ate something that disagreed with my digestion, " he saiduneasily. "I didn't know that I'd been different. "

"Are things well at your--factory?" she asked. 

"At mills? Oh, aye, they're all right, " he said. "I wish everything wasas right as them. "

"As they, " she corrected. 

"As they, " said the humble Mr. Crotin. 

"There's something wrong, " she said, and shook her head, and Mr. Crotinfound himself going white. "I'll have a talk with you when I've got thiswretched bazaar business out of my head, " she added, and with a littlenod she left him. 

He walked to the window of the long dining-hall and watched her cardisappearing down the drive, and then with a sigh went back to his_entremets_. 

When Colonel Dan Boundary surmised that this unfortunate victim of hisblackmail would be worried, he was not far from the mark. Crotin hadspent many sleepless nights since he came back from London, nights fullof terror, that left him a wreck to meet the fears of the days whichfollowed. He lived all the time in the shadow of vengeful justice andexaggerated his danger to an incredible degree; perhaps it was inanticipating what his wife would say that he experienced the mostpoignant misery. 

He had taken to secret drinking too; little nips at odd intervals, bothin his room and in his private office. Life had lost its savour, and nowa new agony was added to the knowledge that his wife had detected thechange. He went to his office and spent a gloomy afternoon wanderingabout the mills, and came back an hour before his usual time. He had notthe heart to make a call at the bazaar, and speculated unhappily uponthe proceeds of the afternoon session. 

It was therefore with something like pleasure that he heard his wife onthe telephone speaking more cheerfully than he had heard her for months. 

"Is that you, John?" she was almost civil. "I'm bringing somebody hometo dinner. Will you tell Phillips?"

"That's right, love, " said Mr. Crotin eagerly. 

He would be glad to see some new face, and that it was a new face hecould guess by the interest in Lady Sybil's tone. 

"It is a Mr. De Silva. Have you ever met him?"

"No, love, I've not. Is he a foreigner?"

"He's a Portuguese gentleman, " said his wife's voice; "and he has beenmost helpful and most generous. "

"Bring him along, " said Crotin heartily. "I'll be glad to meet him. Howhas the sale been, love?"

"Very good indeed, " she replied; "splendid, in fact--thanks to Mr. DeSilva. "

John Crotin was dressing when his wife returned, and it was not untilhalf an hour later that he met Pinto Silva for the first time. Pinto wasa man who dressed well and looked well. John Crotin thought he was themost impressive personality he had met, when he stalked into thedrawing-room and took the proffered hand of the mill-owner. 

"This is Mr. De Silva, " said his wife, who had been waiting for herguest. "As I told you, John, Mr. De Silva has been awfully kind. I don'tknow what you're going to do with all those perfectly useless thingsyou've bought, " she added to the polished Portuguese, and Pintoshrugged. 

"Give them away, " he said; "there must, for example, be a lot of poorwomen in the country who would be glad of the linen I have bought. "

At this point dinner was announced and he took Lady Sybil in. The mealwas approaching its end when she revived the question of the disposal ofhis purchases. 

"Are you greatly interested in charities, Mr. De Silva?"

Pinto inclined his head. 

"Both here and in Portugal I take a very deep interest in the welfare ofthe poor, " he said solemnly. 

"That's fine, " said Mr. Crotin, nodding approvingly. "I know what thesepoor people have to suffer. I've been amongst them----"

His wife silenced him with a look. 

"It frequently happens that cases are brought to my notice, " Pinto wenton, "and I have one or two cases of women in my mind where thesepurchases of mine would be most welcome. For example, " he said, "I heardthe other day, quite by accident, of a poor woman in Wales whose husbanddeserted her. "

Mr. Crotin had his fork half-way to his mouth, but put it down again. 

"I don't know much about the case personally, " said Pinto carelessly, "but the circumstances were brought to my notice by a friend. I thinkthese people suffer more than we imagine; and I'll let you into asecret, Lady Sybil, " he said, speaking impressively. He did not look atCrotin, but went on: "A few of my friends are thinking of buying amill. "

"A woollen mill?" she said, raising her eyebrows. 

"A woollen mill!" he repeated. 

"But why?" she asked. 

"We wish to make garments and blankets for the benefit of the poor. Wefeel that, if we could run this sort of thing on a co-operative basis, we could manufacture the stuff cheaply, always providing, of course, that we could purchase a mill at a reasonable figure. "

For the first time he looked at Crotin, and the man's face was ghastlywhite. 

"What a queer idea!" said Lady Sybil. "A good mill will cost you a lotof money. "

"We don't think so, " said Pinto. "In fact, we expect to purchase a veryexcellent mill at a reasonable sum. That was my object in coming toYorkshire, I may tell you, and it was only by accident that I saw theadvertisement of your bazaar and called in. "

"A fortunate accident for me, " said Lady Sybil. 

Crotin's eyes were on his plate, and he did not raise them. 

"I think it is a great mistake to be too generous with the poor, " saidLady Sybil, shaking her head. "These women are very seldom grateful. "

"I realise that, " said Pinto gravely. "But I am not seeking theirgratitude. We find that many of these women are in terriblecircumstances owing to no fault of their own. For example, this woman inWales, whose husband is supposed to have deserted her--now, there is abad case. "

Lady Sybil was interested. 

"We found on investigation, " said Pinto, speaking slowly andimpressively, "that the man who deserted her has since married andoccupies a very important position in a town in the north of England. "

Mr. Crotin dropped his knife with a crash and with a mumbled apologypicked it up. 

"But how terrible!" said Lady Sybil. "What a shocking thing! The manshould be exposed. He is not fit to associate with human beings. Can'tyou do something to punish him?"

"That could be done, " said Silva, "it could be done, but it would bringa great deal of unhappiness to his present wife, who is ignorant of herhusband's treachery. "

"Better she should know now than later, " said the militant Lady Sybil. "I think you do very wrong to keep it from her. "

Mr. Crotin rose unsteadily and his wife looked at him with suspicion. 

"Aren't you feeling well, John?" she asked with asperity. 

It was not the first time she had seen her husband's hand shaking andhad diagnosed the cause more justly than she was doing at present, forJohn Crotin had scarcely taken a drink that evening. 

"I'm going into the library, if you'll excuse me, love, " he said. "Maybe, Mr. --Mr. De Silva will join me. I'd--I'd like to talk over thequestion of that mill with him. "

Pinto nodded. 

"Then run along now, " said Lady Sybil, "and when you've finishedtalking, come back to me, Mr. De Silva. I want to know something aboutyour charitable organisations in Portugal. "

Pinto followed the other at a distance, saw him enter a big room andswitch on the lights and followed, closing the door behind him. 

Mr. Crotin's library was the most comfortable room in the house. It waslighted by French windows which opened on to a small terrace. Long redvelvet curtains were drawn, and a little fire crackled on the hearth. 

When the door closed Crotin turned upon his guest. 

"Now, damn you, " he said harshly, "what's thy proposition? Make it areasonable sum and I'll pay thee. "

CHAPTER XXVI

THE SOLDIER WHO FOLLOWED

In the train which had carried Pinto Silva to Huddersfield were one ortwo remarkable passengers, and it was not a coincidence that they didnot meet. In a third-class carriage at the far end of the train was asoldier who carried a kit-bag and who whiled away the journey by readinga seemingly endless collection of magazines. 

He got out at Huddersfield too, and Pinto might and probably did see himas he passed through the barrier. The soldier left his kit-bag at thecloak-room and eventually became one of the two dozen people whopatronised Lady Sybil's bazaar on that afternoon. He passed Pinto twice, and once made a small purchase at the same stall where the Portuguesewas buying lavishly. If Pinto saw him, then he did not remember thefact. One soldier looks very much like another, anyway. 

Lady Sybil had reason to notice the representative of His Majesty'sforces, and herself informed him severely that smoking was not allowed, and the man had put his cigarette under his heel with an apology and hadwalked out of the building. When Lady Sybil and her guest had enteredher car and were driven away to Mill Hall, the soldier had beenloitering near the entrance, and a few minutes later he was followingthe party in a taxi-cab which had been waiting at his order for the pasttwo hours. 

The taxi did not turn in at the stone-pillared gates of the Hall, butcontinued some distance beyond, when the soldier alighted and, turningback, walked boldly through the main entrance and passed up the drive. It was dusk by now, and nobody challenged him. 

He made a reconnaissance of the house and found the dining-room withoutany difficulty. The blinds were up and the servants were setting thetable. Then he passed round to the wing of the building and discoveredthe library. He actually went into that room, because it was one of LadySybil's standing orders that the library should be "aired" and that thescent of Mr. Crotin's atrocious tobacco should be cleared. 

He sniffed the stale fragrance and was satisfied that this was a roomwhich was lived in. 

If there was any real, confidential talk between the two men, it wouldbe here, he thought, and looked round for a likely place of concealment. The room was innocent of cupboards. Only a big settee drawn diagonallyacross a corner of the room promised cover, and that looked toodangerous. If anybody sat there and by chance dropped something--a pipeor an ash-tray----

He walked back to the terrace to take his bearings in case he had tomake a rapid exit. He looked round and then dropped suddenly to thecover of the balustrade, for he had seen a dark figure moving across thelawn, and it was coming straight for the terrace. He slipped back intothe room and as he did so he heard a step in the passage without. Hestepped lightly over to the settee and crouched down. 

It was evidently a servant, for he heard the French windows closed andthe clang of the shutters. They were evidently very ordinaryfolding-shutters, fastened with an old-fashioned steel bar--he made amental note of this. Then he heard the swish of the curtain-rings uponthe brass pole as the curtains were drawn. A dim light was switched on, somebody poked the fire, and then the light was put out and the doorclosed softly. 

The intruder did some rapid thinking. He crossed to the nearest of thewindows, noiselessly opened the shutters and pushed them back to theposition in which they stood when not in use. Then he unlatched thewindow and left it, hoping that it would not blow open and betray him. This done, he again pulled the heavy curtains across and returned tohis place of concealment. That was to be the way out for him if thenecessity for a rapid retreat should arise. 

There was no sound save the ticking of the clock and the noise offalling cinders for ten minutes, and then he heard something whichbrought him to the alert, all his senses awakened and concentrated. Itwas the sound of a light and stealthy footstep on the terrace outside. He wondered whether it was a servant and whether he would see that oneof the windows was unshuttered. He had half a mind to investigate, whenthere came another sound--a lumbering foot in the passage. Suddenly thedoor was opened, the lights were flashed on, and the man behind thesettee hugged the floor and held his breath. 

 * * * * *

"How much do I want?"

Pinto laughed and lit a cigarette. 

"My dear Mr. Crotin, I really don't know what you mean. "

"Let's have no more foolery, " said the Yorkshireman roughly. "I knowthat you've come up from Colonel Boundary and I know what you've comefor. You want to buy my mill, eh? Well, I'll make it worth your whilenot to buy my mill. You can take the money instead. "

"I really am honest when I tell you that I don't understand what you aretalking about. I have certainly come up to buy a mill--that is true. Itis also true that I want to buy your mill. "

"And what might you be thinking of paying for it?" asked Crotin betweenhis teeth. 

"Twenty thousand pounds, " said Pinto nonchalantly. 

"Twenty thousand, eh? It was thirty thousand the last time. You'll wantme to give it to you soon. Nay, nay, my friend, I'll pay, but not inmills. "

"Think of the poor, " murmured Pinto. 

"I'm thinking of them, " said the other. "I'm thinking of the poor womanin Wales, too, and the poor woman in there. " He jerked his head. Then, in a calmer tone: "I guessed at dinner where you came from. ColonelBoundary sent you. "

Pinto shrugged. 

"Let us mention no names, " he said politely. "And who is ColonelBoundary, anyway?"

Crotin was at his desk now. He had taken out his cheque-book and slappedit down upon the writing-pad. 

"You've got me proper, " he said, and his voice quavered. "I'll make anoffer to you. I'll give you fifty thousand pounds if you write anagreement that you will not molest or bother me again. "

There was a silence, and the soldier crouched behind the settee, listening intently. He heard Pinto laugh softly as one who is greatlyamused. 

"That, my good friend, " said Pinto, "would be blackmail. You don'timagine that I would be guilty of such an iniquity? I know nothing aboutyour past; I merely suggest that you should sell me one of your mills ata reasonable price. "

"Twenty thousand pounds is reasonable for you, I suppose, " said Crotinsarcastically. 

"It is a lot of money, " replied Pinto. 

The Yorkshireman pulled open the drawer of his desk and slammed in thecheque-book, closing it with a bang. 

"Well, I'll give you nothing, " he said, "neither mill nor money. You canclear out of here. "

He crossed the room to the telephone. 

"What are you going to do?" asked Pinto, secretly alarmed. 

"I'm going to send for the police, " said the other grimly. "I'm going togive myself up and I'm going to pinch thee too!"

If Crotin had turned the handle of the old-fashioned telephone, if hehad continued in his resolution, if he had shown no sign of doubt, adifferent story might have been told. But with his hand raised, hehesitated, and Pinto clinched his argument. 

"Why have all that trouble?" he said. "Your liberty and reputation aremuch more to you than a mill. You're a rich man. Your wife is wealthy inher own right. You have enough to live on for the rest of your life. Why make trouble?"

The little man dropped his head with a groan and walked wearily back tothe desk. 

"Suppose I sell this?" he said in a low voice. "How do I know you won'tcome again----"

"When a gentleman gives his word of honour, " began Pinto with dignity, but was interrupted by a shrill laugh that made his blood run cold. 

He swung round with an oath. Framed in an opening of the curtains whichcovered one of the windows was the Figure!

The black silk gown, the white masked face, the soft felt hat pulleddown over the eyes--his teeth chattered at the sight of it, and he fellback against the wall. 

"Who wouldn't trust Pinto?" squeaked the voice. "Who wouldn't takePinto's word of honour? Jack o' Judgment wouldn't, poor old Jack o'Judgment!"

Jack o' Judgment! The soldier behind the settee heard the words andgasped. Without any thought of consequence he raised his head andlooked. The Jack o' Judgment was standing where he expected him to be. He had come through the window which the soldier had left unbarred. Thistime he carried no weapon in his hand, and Pinto was quick to see thepossibilities. The electric switch was within reach, and his hand shotout. There was a click and the room went dark. 

But the figure of Jack o' Judgment was silhouetted against the night, and Pinto whipped out the long knife which never left him and sent ithurtling at his enemy. He saw the figure duck, heard the crash of brokenglass, and then Jack o' Judgment vanished. In a rage which was threeparts terror, he sprang through the open French windows on to theterrace in time to see a dark figure drop over the balustrade and flyacross the park. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE CAPTURE OF "JACK"

Pinto leapt the parapet and was following swiftly in its wake. Heguessed rather than knew that for once Jack o' Judgment had comeunarmed, and a wild exultation filled him at the thought that it wasleft to him to unveil the mystery which was weighing even upon the ironnerve of the colonel. 

The figure gained the shrubbery, and the pursuer heard the rustle ofleaves as it plunged into the depths. In a second he was blunderingafter. He lost sight of his quarry and stopped to listen. There was nosound. 

"Hiding, " grunted Pinto. And then aloud: "Come out of it. I see you andI'll shoot you like a dog if you don't come to me!"

There was no reply. He dashed in the direction he thought Jack o'Judgment must have taken and again missed. With a curse he turned off inanother direction and then suddenly glimpsed a shape before him andleapt at it. He was flung back with little or no effort, and stoodbewildered, for the coat his hand had touched was rough and he had feltmetal buttons. 

"A soldier!" he gasped. "Who are you?"

"Steady, " said the other; "don't get rattled, Pinto. "

"Who are you?" asked Pinto again. 

"My name is Stafford King, " said the soldier, "and I think I shall wantyou. "

Pinto half turned to go, but was gripped. 

"You can go back to Huddersfield and pack your boxes, " said StaffordKing. "You won't leave the town except by my permission. "

"What do you mean?" demanded Pinto, breathing heavily. 

"I mean, " said Stafford King, "that the unfortunate man you tried toblackmail must prosecute whatever be the consequence to himself. Now, Pinto, you've a grand chance of turning King's evidence. "

Pinto made no reply. He was collecting his thoughts. Then, after awhile, he said:

"I'll talk about that later, King. I'm staying at the Huddersfield Arms. I'll meet you there in an hour. "

Stafford King did not move until the sound of Pinto's footsteps had diedaway. Then he began a systematic search, for he too was anxious to endthe mystery of Jack o' Judgment. He had followed Pinto when he dashedfrom the room and had heard the Portuguese calling upon Jack o' Judgmentto surrender. That mysterious individual, who was obviously lying low, could not be very far away. 

He was in a shrubbery which proved later to be a clump of rhododendrons, in the centre of which was a summer-house. To the heart of thisshrubbery led three paths, one of which Stafford discovered quite closeat hand. The sound of gravel under his feet gave him an idea, and hebegan walking backward till he came to the shadow of a tree, and then, simulating the sound of retreating footsteps, he waited. 

After a while he heard a rustle, but did not move. 

Somebody was coming cautiously through the bushes, and that somebodyappeared as a shadowy, indistinct figure, not twenty yards away. Onlythe keenest eyesight could have detected it, and still Stafford waited. Presently he heard the soft crunch of gravel under its feet, and at thatmoment leapt towards it. The figure stood as though paralysed for asecond, and then, turning quickly, fled back to the heart of the bushes. Before it had gone a dozen paces Stafford had reached it, and his armwas about its neck. 

"My friend, " he breathed, "I don't know what I'm to do with you now I'vegot you, but I certainly am going to register your face for futurereference. "

"No, no, " said a muffled voice from behind the mask. "No, no, don't; Ibeg of you!"

But the mask was plucked away, and, fumbling in his pocket, Staffordproduced his electric lamp and flashed it on the face of his prisoner. Then, with a cry of amazement, he stepped back--for he had looked uponthe face of Maisie White!

For a moment there was silence, neither speaking. Then Stafford foundhis voice. 

"Maisie!" he said in bewilderment, "Maisie! You--Jack o' Judgment?"

She did not answer. 

"Phew!" whistled Stafford. 

Then sitting on a trunk, he laughed. 

"It is Maisie, of all people in the world. And I suspected it, too!"

The girl had covered her face with her hands and was crying softly, andhe moved towards her and put his arm about her shoulder. 

"Darling, it is nothing very terrible. Please don't go on like that. "

"Oh, you don't understand, you don't understand!" she wailed. "I wantedto catch Silva. I guessed that he was coming north on one of hisblackmailing trips, and I followed him. "

"Did you come up by the same train?"

He felt her nod. 

"So did I, " said Stafford with a little grin. 

"I followed him to the bazaar, " she said, "and then I watched him from alittle eating-house on the opposite side of the road. Do you know, Iwondered whether you were here too, and I looked everywhere for you, butapparently there was nobody in sight when Pinto came out with LadySybil, only a soldier. "

"I was that soldier, " said Stafford. 

"I discovered where Mr. Crotin lived and came up later, " she went on. "Of course, I had no very clear idea of what I was going to do, and itwas only by the greatest luck that I found the window of the libraryopen. It was the only window that was open, " she said with a littlelaugh. 

"It wasn't so much your luck as my forethought, " smiled Stafford. 

"Now I want to tell you about Jack o' Judgment, " she began, but hestopped her. 

"Let that explanation wait, " he said; "the point is, that with yourevidence and mine we have Pinto by the throat--what was that?"

There was the sound of a shot. 

"Probably a poacher, " said Stafford after a moment. "I can't imaginePinto using a gun. Besides, I don't think he carries one. What did hethrow at you?"

"A knife, " she said, and he felt her shiver; "it just missed me. Buttell me, how have we got Pinto?"

They had left the shrubbery and were walking towards the house. Shestopped a little while to take off her long black cloak, and he saw thatshe was wearing a short-skirted dress beneath. 

"We must compel Crotin to prosecute, " said Stafford. "With our evidencenothing can save Pinto, and probably he will drag in the colonel, too. Even your evidence isn't necessary, " he said after a moment's thought, "and if it's possible I will keep you out of it. "

A woman's scream interrupted him. 

"There's trouble there, " he said, and raced for the house. Somebody wasstanding on the terrace as he approached, and hailed him excitedly. 

"Is that you, Terence?"

It was a servant's voice. 

"No, " replied Stafford, "I am a police officer. "

"Thank God!" said the man on the terrace. "Will you come up, sir? Ithought it was the gamekeeper I was speaking to. "

"What is the matter?" asked Stafford as he vaulted over the parapet. 

"Mr. Crotin has shot himself, sir, " said the butler in quavering tones. 

 * * * * *

Twelve hours later Stafford King reported to his chief, giving thedetails of the overnight tragedy. 

"Poor fellow!" said Sir Stanley. "I was afraid of it ending that way. "

"Did you know he was being blackmailed?" asked Stafford. 

Sir Stanley nodded. 

"We had a report, which apparently emanated from Jack o' Judgment, whoof late has started sending his communications to me direct, " said SirStanley. "You can, of course, do nothing with Pinto. Your evidence isn'tsufficient. What a pity you hadn't a second witness. " He thought for amoment. "Even then it wouldn't have been sufficient unless we had Crotinto support you. "

Stafford cleared his throat. 

"I have a second witness, sir, " he said. 

"The devil you have!" Sir Stanley raised his eyebrows. "Who was yoursecond witness?"

"Jack o' Judgment, " said Stafford, and Sir Stanley jumped to his feet. 

"Jack o' Judgment!" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Jack o' Judgment was there, " said Stafford, and told the story of theremarkable appearance of that mysterious figure. 

He told everything, reserving the identification of Jack till the last. 

"And then you flashed the lamp on his face, " said Sir Stanley. "Well, who was it?"

"Maisie White, " said Stafford. 

"Good Lord!"

Sir Stanley walked to the window and stood looking out, his hands thrustinto his pockets. Presently he turned. 

"There's a bigger mystery here than I suspected, " he said. "Have youasked Miss White for an explanation?"

Stafford shook his head. 

"I thought it best to report the matter to you, sir, before I asked herto----"

"To incriminate herself, eh? Well, perhaps you did wisely, perhaps youdid not. I should imagine that her explanation is a very simple one. "

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean, " said Sir Stanley, "that unless Jack o' Judgment has the giftof appearing in two places at once, she is not Jack. "

"But I don't understand, sir?"

"I mean, " said Sir Stanley, "that Jack o' Judgment was in the colonel'sroom last night, was in fact sitting by the colonel's bedside when thatgentleman awoke, and according to the statement which Colonel Boundaryhas made to me about two hours ago in this room, warned him of hisapproaching end. "

It was Stafford's turn to be astonished. 

"Are you sure, sir?" he asked incredulously. 

"Absolutely!" said Sir Stanley. "You don't imagine that the colonelwould invent that sort of thing. For some reason or other, possibly tokeep close to the trouble that's coming, the colonel insists uponbringing all his little chit-chat to me. He asked for an interview aboutten o'clock this morning and reported to me that he had had thisvisitation. Moreover, the experience has had the effect of upsetting thecolonel, and for the first time he seems to be thoroughly rattled. Whereis Miss White?"

"She's here, sir. "

"Here, eh?" said the commissioner. "So much the better. Can you bringher in?"

A few minutes later the girl sat facing the First Commissioner. 

"Now, Miss White, we're going to ask you for a few facts about yourmasquerade, " said Sir Stanley kindly. "I understand that you appearedwearing the costume, and giving a fairly good imitation of the voice ofJack o' Judgment. Now, I'm telling you before we go any further that Ido not believe for one moment that you are Jack o' Judgment. Am Iright?"

She nodded. 

"Perfectly true, Sir Stanley, " she said. "I don't know why I did such amad thing, except that I knew Pinto was scared of him. I got the cloakfrom my dress-basket and made the mask myself. You see, I didn't knowwhether I might want it, but I thought that in a tight pinch, if Iwished to terrify this man, that was the rôle to assume. "

Sir Stanley nodded. 

"And the voice, of course, was easy. "

"But how could you imitate the voice if you have never seen Jack o'Judgment?"

"I saw him once. " She shivered a little. "You seem to forget, SirStanley, that he rescued me from that dreadful house. "

"Of course, " said Sir Stanley, "and you imitated him, did you?" Heturned to his subordinate. "I'm accepting Miss White's explanation, Stafford, and I advise you to do the same. She went up to watch Silva, as I understand, and took the costume with her as a sort of protection. Well, Miss White, are you satisfied with your detective work?"

She smiled ruefully. 

"I'm afraid I'm a failure as a detective, " she said. 

"I'm afraid you are, " laughed Sir Stanley, as he rose and offered hishand. "There is only one real detective in the world--and that is Jacko' Judgment!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE PASSING OF PHILLOPOLIS

If Pinto Silva had a hobby, it was the Orpheum Theatre. The Orpheum hadbeen in low water and had come into the market at a moment whentheatrical managers and proprietors were singularly unenterprising andmoney was short. Pinto had bought the property for a song, and hadconverted his purchase into a moderate success. The theatre served adouble purpose; it provided Pinto with a hobby, and offered an excusefor his wealth. Since it was a one-man show, and he produced nobalance-sheet, his contemporaries could only make a guess as to theamount of money he made. If the truth be told, it was not very large, but small as it was, its dividends more or less justified his ownleisure. 

There had been one or two scandals about the Orpheum which had reachedthe public Press--scandals of a not particularly edifying character. ButPinto had managed to escape public opprobrium. 

The Orpheum, at any rate, helped to baffle the police, who saw Silvaliving at the rate of twenty thousand a year, and were unable to tracethe source of his income. That he had estates in Portugal was known; butthey had been acquired, apparently, on the profits of the music-hall. Hewas not a speculator, though he was a shareholder in a number ofcompanies which were controlled by the colonel; and he was certainly nota gambler, in the generally accepted sense of the term. 

Whilst he was suspected of being intimately connected with several shadytransactions, he could boast truly that there was not a scrap ofevidence to associate him with any breach of the law. He was lessinclined to boast that evening, when he turned into the stage-box at theOrpheum, and pulling his chair into the shadow of the draperies, satback and considered his position. He had returned from Yorkshire in apanic, and had met the fury of the colonel's reproaches. It was theworst quarter of an hour that Pinto had ever spent with his superior, and the memory made him shiver. 

The stage-box at the Orpheum was never sold to any member of the public. It was Pinto's private possession, his sitting-room and his office. Hesat watching with gloomy interest the progress of the little revue whichwas a feature of the Orpheum programme, and his mind was occupied by avery pressing problem. He was shaken, too, by the interview he had hadwith the Huddersfield police. 

He had had to fake a story to explain why he left the library, and why, in his absence, Mr. Crotin had committed suicide. Fortunately, he hadreturned to the house by the front hall and was in the hall inventing astory of burglars to the agitated Lady Sybil when they heard the shotwhich ended the wretched life of the bigamist. That had saved him frombeing suspected of actual complicity in the crime. Suppose they had--hesweated at the thought. 

There was a knock on the door of the box, and an attendant put in hishead. 

"There's a gentleman to see you, sir, " he said; "he says he has anappointment. "

"What is his name?"

"Mr. Cartwright. "

Pinto nodded. 

"Show him in, please, " he said, and dismissed all unpleasant thoughts. 

The new-comer proved to be a dapper little man, with a weather-beatenface. He was in evening dress, and spoke like a gentleman. 

"I had your letter, Mr. Silva, " he said. "You received my telephonemessage?"

"Yes, " said Silva. "I wanted to see you particularly. You understandthat what I say is wholly confidential. "

"That I understand, " said the man called Cartwright. 

He took Pinto's proferred cigarette and lit it. 

"I have been reading about you in the papers, " said Pinto. "You're theman who did the non-stop flight for the Western Aeroplane Company?"

"That's right, " smiled Cartwright. "I have done many long nights. Isuppose you are referring to my San Sebastian trip?"

Pinto nodded. 

"Now I want to ask you a few questions, and if they seem to be prying orpersonal, you must believe that I have no other wish than to secureinformation which is vital to myself. What position do you occupy withthe Western Company?"

Cartwright shrugged his shoulders. 

"I am a pilot, " he said. "If you mean, am I a director of the firm or amI interested in the company financially, I regret that I must answer No. I wish I were, " he added, "but I am merely an employee. "

Pinto nodded. 

"That is what I wanted to know, " he said. "Now, here is anotherquestion. What does a first-class aeroplane cost?"

"It depends, " said the other. "A long distance machine, such as I havebeen flying, would cost anything up to five thousand pounds. "

"Could you buy one? Are they on the market?" asked Pinto quickly. 

"I could buy a dozen to-morrow, " said the other promptly. "The R. A. F. Have been selling off their machines, and I know just where I could getone of the best in Britain. "

Pinto was looking at the stage, biting his lips thoughtfully. 

"I'll tell you what I want, " he said. "I am not very keenly interestedin aviation, but it may be necessary that I should return to Portugal ina great hurry. It is no news to you that we Portuguese are generally inthe throes of some revolution or other. "

"So I understand, " said Cartwright, with a twinkle in his eye. 

"In those circumstances, " Pinto went on, "it may be necessary for me toleave this country without going through the formality of securing apassport. I want a machine which will carry me from London to, say, Cintra, without a stop, and I want a pilot who can take me across thesea by the direct route. "

"Across the Bay of Biscay?" asked the aviator in surprise, and Pintonodded. 

"I should not want to touch any other country en route, for reasonswhich, I tell you frankly, are political. "

Cartwright thought a moment. 

"Yes, I think I can get you the machine, and I'm certain I can find youthe pilot, " he said. 

"To put it bluntly, " said Pinto, "would you take on an engagement fortwelve months, secure the machine, house it and have it ready for me? Iwill pay you liberally. " He mentioned a sum which satisfied the airman. "It must not be known that the machine is mine. You must buy it and keepit in your own name. "

"There's no difficulty about that, " said Cartwright. "Am I to understandthat I must go ahead with the purchase of the aeroplane?"

"You can start right away, " said Pinto. "The sooner you have the machineready for a flight the better. I am here almost every night, and I willgive orders to the collectors on the barrier that you are to come to mejust whenever you want. If you will meet me here to-morrow morning, sayat eleven o'clock, I can give you cash for the purchase of the machine, and I shall be happy to pay you half a year's salary in advance. "

"It will take some time to clear my old job, " said Cartwrightthoughtfully, "but I think I can do it for you. At any rate, I can gettime off to buy the machine. You say that you do not want anybody toknow that it is yours?"

Pinto nodded. 

"Well, that's easy, " said the other. "I've been thinking about buying amachine of my own for some time and have made inquiries in severalquarters. "

He rose to leave and shook hands. 

"Remember, " said Pinto as a final warning, "not a word about this to anyhuman soul. "

"You can trust me, " said the man. 

Pinto watched the rest of the play with a lighter heart. After all, there could be nothing very much to fear. What had thrown him off hisbalance for the moment was the presence of Stafford King in Yorkshire, and when that detective chief did not make his appearance at the policeinquiry nor had sought him in his hotel, it looked as though thecolonel's words were true, and that Scotland Yard were after Boundaryhimself and none other. 

He sat the performance through and then went to his club--an institutionoff Pall Mall which had been quite satisfied to accept Pinto tomembership without making any too close inquiries as to his antecedents. 

He spent some time before the tape machine, watching the news tickforth, then strolled into the smoking-room and read the evening papersfor the second time. Only one item of news really interested him--it hadinterested the colonel too. The diamondsmiths' premises in Regent Streethad been burgled the night before and the contents of the safe cleared. The colonel had arrested his flow of vituperation, to speculate as tothe "artist" who had carried out this neat job. 

Pinto read for a little, then threw the paper down. He wondered whatmade him so restive and why he was so anxious to find something tooccupy his attention, and then he realised with a start that he did notwant to go back to face Colonel Boundary. It was the first time he hadever experienced this sensation, and he did not like it. He had held hisplace in the gang by the assurance, which was also an assumption, thathe was at least the colonel's equal. This irritated him. He put on hisovercoat and turned into the street. It was a chilly night and a thindrizzle of rain was falling. He pulled up his coat-collar and lookedabout for a taxi-cab. Neither outside the club nor in Pall Mall was onevisible. 

He started to walk home, but still felt that disinclination to face thecolonel. Then a thought struck him; he would go and see Phillopolis, thelittle Greek. 

Phillopolis patronised a night-club in Soho, where he was usually to befound between midnight and two in the morning. Having an objective, Pinto felt in a happier frame of mine and walked briskly the interveningdistance. He found his man sitting at a little marble-topped table byhimself, contemplating a half-bottle of sweet champagne and ahalf-filled glass. He was evidently deep in thought, and startedviolently when Pinto addressed him. 

"Sit down, " he said with evident relief. "I thought it was----"

"Who did you think it was? You thought it was the police, I suppose?"said Pinto with heavy jocularity, and to his amazement he saw the littleman wince. 

"What has happened to Colonel Boundary?" asked the Greek irritably. "There used to be a time when anybody he spoke for was safe. I'm gettingout of this country and I'm getting out quick, " he added. 

"Why?" asked Pinto, who was vitally interested. 

The Greek threw out his hands with a little grimace. 

"Nerves, " he said. "I haven't got over that affair with the White girl. "

"Pooh!" said the other. "If the police were moving in that matter, they'd have moved long ago. You are worrying yourself unnecessarily, Phillopolis. "

Pinto's words slipped glibly from his tongue, but Phillopolis wasunimpressed. 

"I know when I've had enough, " he said. "I've got my passport and I'mclearing out at the end of this week. "

"Does the colonel know this?"

The Greek raised his shoulders indifferently. 

"I don't know whether he does or whether he doesn't, " he said. "Anyway, Boundary and I are only remotely connected in business, and mymovements are no affair of his. "

He looked curiously at the other. 

"I wonder that a man like you, who is in the heart of things, stays onwhen the net is drawing round the old man. "

"Loyalty is a vice with me, " said Pinto virtuously. "Besides, there's noreason to bolt--as yet. "

"I'm going whilst I'm safe, " said Phillopolis, sipping his champagne. "At present the police have nothing against me and I'm going to takegood care they have nothing. That's where I've the advantage of peoplelike you. "

Pinto smiled. 

"They've nothing on me, " he said easily. "I have an absolutely cleanrecord. "

It disturbed him, however, to discover that even so minor a member ofthe gang as Phillopolis was preparing to desert what he evidentlyregarded as a sinking ship. More than this, it confirmed him in thewisdom of his own precautions, and he was rather glad that he had takenit into his head to visit Phillopolis on that night. 

"When do you leave?" he asked. 

"The day after to-morrow, " said Phillopolis. "I think I'll go down intoItaly for a year. I've made enough money now to live without worryingabout work, and I mean to enjoy myself. "

Pinto looked at the man with interest. Here, at any rate, was onewithout a conscience. The knowledge that he had accumulated his fortunethrough the miseries of innocent girls shipped to foreign dance hallsdid not weigh greatly upon his mind. 

"Lucky you!" said Pinto, as they walked out of the club together. "Wheredo you live, by the way?"

"In Somers Street, Soho. It is just round the corner, " said Phillopolis. "Will you walk there with me?"

Pinto hesitated. 

"Yes, I will, " he said. 

He wanted to see the sort of establishment which Phillopolismaintained. They chatted together till they came to the street, and thenPhillopolis stopped. 

"Do you mind if I go ahead?" he said. "I have a--friend there who mightbe worried by your coming. "

Pinto smiled to himself. 

"Certainly, " he said. "I'll wait on the opposite side of the road untilyou are ready. "

The man lived above a big furniture shop, and admission was gained by aside door. Pinto watched him pass through the portals and heard the doorclose. He was a long time gone, and evidently his "friend" wasunprepared to receive visitors at that hour, or else Phillopolis himselfhad some reason for postponing the invitation. 

The reason for the delay was explained in a sensational manner. Suddenlythe door opened and a man came out. He was followed by two others andbetween them was Phillopolis, and the street-lamp shone upon the steelhandcuffs on his wrists. Pinto drew back into a doorway and watched. Phillopolis was talking--it would perhaps be more accurate to say thathe was raving at the top of his voice, cursing and sobbing in a frenzy. 

"You planted them--it is a plant!" he yelled. "You devils!"

"Are you coming quietly?" said a voice. "Or are you going to maketrouble? Take him, Dempsey!"

Phillopolis seemed to have forgotten Pinto's presence, for he went outof the street without once calling upon him to testify to his characterand innocence. Pinto waited till he was gone, and then strolled acrossthe road to the detective who stood before the door lighting his pipe. 

"Good evening, " he said, "has there been some trouble?"

The officer looked at him suspiciously. But Pinto was in evening dressand talked like a gentleman, and the policeman thawed. 

"Nothing very serious, sir, " he said, "except for the man. He's afence. "

"A what?" said Pinto with well-feigned innocence. 

"A receiver of stolen property. We found his lodgings full of stuff. "

"Good Heavens!" gasped Pinto. 

"Yes, sir, " said the man, delighted that he had created a sensation. "Inever saw so much valuable property in one room in my life. There was abig burglary in Regent Street last night. A jeweller's shop was clearedout of about twenty thousand pounds' worth of necklaces, and we foundevery bit of it here to-night. We've always suspected this man, " he wenton confidentially. "Nobody knew how he got his living, but frominformation we received to-day we were able to catch him red-handed. "

"Thank you, " said Pinto faintly, and walked slowly home, for now he nolonger feared to meet the colonel. He had something to tell him, something that would inspire even Boundary with apprehension. 

CHAPTER XXIX

THE VOICE IN THE ROOM

As Silva anticipated, the colonel was up and waiting for him. He wasplaying Patience on his desk and looked up with a scowl as thePortuguese entered. 

"So you've been skulking, have you, Pinto?" he began, but the otherinterrupted him. 

"You can keep all that talk for another time, " he said. "They've takenPhillopolis!"

The colonel swept his cards aside with a quick, nervous gesture. 

"Taken Phillopolis?" he repeated slowly. "On what charge?"

"For being the receiver of stolen property, " said the other. "They foundthe proceeds of the Regent Street burglary in his apartments. "

The colonel opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, and there wassilence for two or three minutes. 

"I see. They have planted the stuff on him, have they?"

"What do you mean?" asked Pinto. 

"You don't suppose that Phillopolis is a fence, do you?" said thecolonel scornfully. "Why, it is a business that a man must spend thewhole of his life at before he can be successful. No, Phillopolis knowsno more about that burglary or the jewels than you or I. The stuff hasbeen planted in his rooms. "

"But the police don't do that sort of thing. "

"Who said the police did it?" snarled the colonel. "Of course theydidn't. They haven't the sense. That's Mr. Jack o' Judgment once more, and this time, Pinto, he's real dangerous. "

"Jack o' Judgment!" gasped Pinto. "But would he commit a burglary?"

The colonel laughed scornfully. 

"Would he commit murder? Would he hang Raoul? Would he shoot you? Don'task such damn-fool questions, Silva! Of course it was Jack o' Judgment. I tell you, the night you were in Yorkshire making a mess of that Crotinbusiness, Jack o' Judgment came here, to this very room, and told methat he would ruin us one by one, and that he would leave me to thelast. He mentioned us all--you, Crewe, Selby----"

He stopped suddenly and scratched his chin. 

"But not Lollie Marsh, " he said. "That's queer, he never mentionedLollie Marsh!"

He was deep in thought for a few moments, then he went on:

"So he's worked off Phillopolis, has he? Well, Phillopolis has got totake his medicine. I can do nothing for him. "

"But surely he can prove----" began Pinto. 

"What can he prove?" asked the other. "Can he prove how he earns hismoney? He's been taken with the goods; he hasn't that chance, " hesnapped his fingers. "I'll make a prophecy, " he said: "Phillopolis willget five years' penal servitude, and nothing in the world can save himfrom that. "

"An innocent man!" said Pinto in amazement. "Impossible!"

"But is he innocent?" asked the colonel sourly. "That's the point you'vegot to keep in your mind. He may be innocent of one kind of crookedness, and be so mixed up in another that he cannot prove he is innocent ofeither. That's where they've got this fellow. He dare not appeal to thepeople who know him best, because they'd give him away. He can't tellthe police who are his agents in Greece or Armenia, or they'll find outjust the kind of agency he was running. "

He squatted back in his chair, pulling at his long moustache. 

"Phillopolis, Crewe, Pinto, Selby, and then me, " said he, speaking tohimself, "and he never mentioned Lollie Marsh. And Lollie has been thedecoy duck that has been in every hunt we've had. This wants lookinginto, Pinto. "

As he finished speaking there was a little buzz from the corner of theroom and Pinto looked up startled. The colonel looked up too and a slowsmile dawned on his face. 

"A visitor, " he said softly. "Not our old friend Jack o' Judgment, surely!"

"What is it?" asked Pinto. 

"A little alarm I've had fixed under one of the treads of the stairs, "said the other. "I don't like to be taken unawares. "

"Perhaps it is Crewe, " suggested the other. 

"Crewe's gone home an hour ago, " said the colonel. "No, this is agenuine visitor. "

They waited for some time and then there was a knock at the outer door. 

"Open it, Pinto, " and as the other did not instantly move, "open it, damn you! What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything, " growled the Portuguese and flung out ofthe room. 

Yet he hesitated again before he turned the handle of the outer door. Heflung it open and stepped back. He would have gone farther, but the wallwas at his back and he could only stand with open mouth staring at thevisitor. It was Maisie White. 

She returned his gaze steadily. 

"I want to see Colonel Boundary, " she said. 

"Certainly, certainly, " said Pinto huskily. 

He shut the door and ushered her into the colonel's presence. Boundary'seyes narrowed as he saw the girl. He suspected a trap and looked pasther as though expecting to see an escort behind her. 

"This is an unexpected honour, Miss White, " he said suavely, and helooked meaningly at the clock on the mantelpiece. "We do not usuallyreceive visitors so late, and especially charming lady visitors. "

She was carrying a thick package, and this she laid on the table. 

"I'm sorry it is so late, " she said calmly, "but I have been all theevening checking my father's accounts. This is yours. "

She handed the package to the colonel. 

"That parcel contains banknotes to the value of twenty-seven thousandthree hundred pounds, " said the girl quietly; "it represents whatremains of the money which my father drew from your gang. "

"Tainted money, eh?" said the colonel humorously. "I think you're veryfoolish, Miss White. Your father earned this money by legitimatebusiness enterprises. "

"I know all about them, " she said. "I won't ask you to count the notes, because it is only a question of getting the money off my ownconscience, and the amount really doesn't matter. "

"So you came here alone to make this act of reparation?" sneered thecolonel. 

"I came here to make this act of reparation, " she replied steadily. 

"Not alone, eh? Surrounded entirely by police. Mr. Stafford King in theoffing, waiting outside in a taxi, or probably waiting on the mat, " saidthe colonel in the same tone. "Well, well, you're quite safe with us, Miss White. "

He took up the package and tore off the wrapping, revealing two wads ofbanknotes, and ran his finger along the edges. 

"And how are you going to live?" he asked. 

"By working, " said the girl; "that's a strange way of earning a living, don't you think, colonel?"

"You'll never work harder than I have worked, " said Colonel Dan Boundarygood-humouredly. And, looking down at the money: "So that's SollyWhite's share, is it? And I suppose it doesn't include the house hebought, or the car?"

"I've sold everything, " said the girl quietly; "every piece of propertyhe owned has been realised, and that is the proceeds. "

With a little nod she was withdrawing, but Pinto barred her way. 

"One moment, Miss White, " he said, and there was a dangerous glint inhis eye, "if you choose to come here alone in the middle of thenight----"

The colonel stepped between them, and he swept the Portuguese backwards. Without a word he opened the door. 

"Good night, Miss White, " he said. "My kind regards to Mr. StaffordKing, who I suppose is somewhere on the premises, and to all the brightlads of the Criminal Intelligence Department who are at this momentwatching the house. "

She smiled, but did not take his proffered hand. 

"Good-bye, " she said. 

The colonel accompanied her to the outer door and switched on all thestair lights, as he could from the master-switch near the entrance tohis flat, and waited until the echo of her footsteps had passed awaybefore he came back to the man. 

"You're a clever fellow, you are, Pinto, " he said quietly; "you have oneof the brightest minds in the gang. "

"If she comes here alone----" began Pinto. 

"Alone!" snarled the colonel. "I hinted a dozen times, if I hinted once, that she'd come with a young army of police. The first shout she madewould have been the signal for your arrest and mine. Haven't you hadyour lesson to-night? How long do you think it would take Stafford Kingto trump up a charge against you and put you where the dogs wouldn'tbite, eh?"

He walked to the window and watched the girl. There was a taxi-cabwaiting at the entrance, and as he had suspected, a man was standing bythe door and followed the girl into the cab before it drove away. 

"She timed her visit. I suppose she gave herself five minutes. If she'dbeen here any longer, they would have been up for her, make no mistakeabout that, Pinto. "

The colonel drew down the blinds with a crash and began pacing the room. He stopped at the farther end and looked at the wall. 

"Do you know, I've often wondered why Jack o' Judgment damaged thatwall?" he said. "He's got me guessing, and I've been guessing eversince. "

"You thought it was a freak?" said Pinto, glad to keep his master offthe subject of his Huddersfield blunder. 

The colonel shook his head. 

"I shouldn't think it was that, " he said. "It was not like Jack o'Judgment to do freakish things. He has an object in everything he does. "

"Perhaps it was to get you out of the room for the morning and make asearch for your papers, " suggested Pinto. 

Again the colonel shook his head. 

"He knows me better than that. He knew very well that I would shiftevery document from the room and that there was nothing for hisbloodhounds to discover. " He thought a moment, pulling at his long, yellow moustache. "Maybe, " he said to himself, "maybe----"

"Maybe what?" asked Pinto. 

"The workmen may have been up to some kind of dodge. They might havebeen policemen for all I know. " He shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, that's long ago, and if he'd made a discovery, why, I think we shouldhave heard about it. Now, Pinto, "--his tone changed--"I'm not going totalk to you about Crotin. You've made a proper mess of it, and I oughtnever to have sent you. We have two matters to settle. Crewe wants toget out, and I think you're getting ready to bolt. "

"Me?" said Pinto with virtuous indignation. "Do you imagine I shouldleave you, colonel, if you were in for a bad time?"

"Do I imagine it?" The colonel laughed. "Don't be a fool. Sit down. Whendid you see Lollie Marsh last?"

Pinto considered. 

"I haven't seen her for weeks. "

"Neither have I, " said the colonel. "Of course she has an excuse forstaying away. She never comes unless she's sent for. If we've got a mugwe want to lead down the easy path, why, there's nobody in London whocan do it like Lollie. And I understand you had some disagreement withthe young lady over Maisie White?"

"She interfered----" began Pinto. 

"And probably saved your life, " remarked the colonel meaningly. "No, youhave no kick against Lollie for that. "

He pulled open the drawer of his desk, took out a card and wroterapidly. 

"I'll put Snakit on her trail, " he said. 

"Snakit!" said the other contemptuously. 

"He's all right for this kind of work, " said the colonel, alluding tothe little detective whom he had bought over from Maisie White'sservice. "Snakit can trail her. He does nothing for his keep, and Lolliedoesn't know him, does she?"

"I don't think so, " said Pinto absently. "If you believe that Lollie isdouble-crossing you, why don't you----"

"I'll write to you when I want any suggestions as to how to run mybusiness, " said the colonel unpleasantly. "Where does Lollie live?"

"Tavistock Avenue, " said Pinto. "I wish you'd be a little more decent tome, colonel. I'm trying to play the game by you. "

"And you'll soon get tired of trying, " said the colonel. "Don't worry, Pinto. I know just how much I can depend upon you and just what yourloyalty is worth. You'll sell me at the first opportunity, and you'll bedead about the same day. I only hope for your sake that the opportunitynever arises. That's that, " he said, as he finished the card and put iton one side. "Now what is the next thing?" He looked up at the ceilingfor inspiration. "Crewe, " he said, "Crewe is getting out of hand too. Iput him on a job to trace 'Snow' Gregory's past. I haven't seen or heardof him for two days, either. "

Somebody laughed. It was a queer, little far-away laugh, but Pintorecognised it and his hair almost stood on end. He looked across at thecolonel with ashen face, and then swung round apprehensively toward thedoor. 

"Did you hear that?" he whispered. 

"I heard it--thank the lord!" said the colonel, and fetched a long sigh. 

Pinto gazed at him in amazement. 

"Why, " he said in a low voice, "that was Jack o' Judgment!"

"I know, " said the colonel nodding; "but I still thank the lord!"

He got up slowly and walked round the room, opened the door that led tohis bedroom, and put on the light. The room was empty, and the onlycupboard which might have concealed an intruder was wide open. He cameback, walked into the entrance hall, and opened the door softly. Thelanding was empty too. He returned after fastening the door and slippingthe bolts--bolts which he had had fixed during the previous week. 

"You wonder why I held a thanksgiving service?" said the colonel slowly. "Well, I've heard that laugh before, and I thought my brain wasgoing--that's all. I'd rather it were Jack o' Judgment in the flesh thanJack o' Judgment wandering loose around my hut. "

"You heard it before?" said Pinto. "Here?"

"Here in this room, " said the colonel. "I thought I was going daft. You're the first person who has heard it besides myself. " He looked atPinto. "A hell of a prospect, isn't it?" he said gloomily. "Let's talkabout the weather!"

CHAPTER XXX

DIAMONDS FOR THE BANK

There was no hope for Phillopolis from the first. The case against himwas so clear and so damning that the magistrate, before whom thepreliminary inquiry was heard, had no hesitation in committing him totake his trial at the Old Bailey on a charge of receiving, and that atthe first hearing. Every article which had been stolen from thediamondsmiths' company had been recovered in his flat. The policeexperts gave evidence to the effect that he had been a suspected man foryears, that his method of earning a living had on several occasions beenthe subject of police inquiry. He was known to be, so the evidence ran, the associate of criminal characters, and on two occasions his flat hadbeen privately raided. 

The woman who passed as his wife had nothing good to say of him. It wasnot she who had admitted the police. Indeed, they found her in an upperroom, locked in. Phillopolis was something of a tyrant, and on the dayof his arrest he had had a quarrel with the woman, who had threatened toexpose him to the police for some breach of the law. He had beaten herand locked her into an upper bedroom, and this act of tyranny had provedhis downfall, if it were true, as he swore so vehemently that thearticles which were found in his room had been planted there. 

The colonel was not present, nor were any other members of the gang, save little Selby, who had been summoned to the colonel's presence andhad arrived in the early morning. 

"He hasn't a ghost of a chance, " reported Selby, who had a lifelongacquaintance with criminals of the meaner sort, and had spent no smallamount of his time in police courts, securing evidence as to the virtueof his protégés. "If he doesn't get ten years I'm a Dutchman. "

"What does Phillopolis say?"

"He swears that the goods were not in his flat when he went out thatnight, " he said, "but if they were planted, the work was donethoroughly. The detectives found jewel cases under cushions, hidden incupboards, on the tops of shelves, and one of the best bits of swag--awonderful diamond necklace--was discovered in his boot, at the bottom ofhis trunk. "

The conversation took place in the Green Park, which was a favouritehaunt of the colonel's. He loved to sit on a chair by the side of thelake, watching the children sailing their boats and the ducks motheringtheir broods. He was silent. His eyes were bent upon the efforts of asmall boy to bring a little waterlogged boat to a level keel andapparently he had no other interest. 

"Have a cigar, Selby, " he said at last. "What is the news in your partof the world?"

Selby was carefully biting off the end of his gift. 

"Nothing much, " he said. "We got some letters the other day from Mrs. Crombie-Brail. Her son has got into trouble at the Cape. Lew Litchfieldgot them. He was doing a job in Manchester. "

Lew Litchfield was a bright young burglar of whom the colonel had heard, and he knew the kind of "job" on which Lew was engaged. 

"You bought 'em?" he asked. 

"I gave a tenner for them, " said Selby. "I don't think they're muchuse. "

The colonel shook his head. 

"That's not the kind of letter that brings in money, " he said. "Youcan't bleed a mother because her son got into trouble--at least, not formore than a hundred. "

"Letters have been scarce lately, " said his agent disconsolately; "Ithink people have either given up keeping or writing them. "

"Maybe, " said the colonel. "Anyway, I didn't bring you down to talkabout letters. I've work for you. "

Selby looked uneasy, and that in itself was a discouraging sign. Usuallythe little crook from the north hailed a job of any kind withenthusiasm. 

It was an unmistakable proof to the colonel that he was losing grip, that the magic of his name and all that it implied in the way ofprotection from punishment, was less than it had been. 

"You don't seem very pleased, " he said. 

Selby forced a smile. 

"Well, colonel, " he said, "I've a feeling they're after us, and I don'twant to take any risks. "

"You'll take this one, " said the colonel. "There's somebody to be putaway. "

The man licked his lips. 

"Well, I'm not in it, " he said. "I had enough with that Hansonbusiness. "

"By 'put away' I don't mean murdered or ill-treated in any sense, " saidthe colonel, "and besides, it is one of our own people. "

But even this assurance did not satisfy the man. 

"I don't like it, " he said; "they tell me that this Jack o'Judgment----"

"Just forget Jack o' Judgment for a minute and think of yourself, "snapped the colonel. "You've made your pile, and you find England'sgetting a bit too hot for you, don't you?"

"I do indeed, " said the man fervently. "You know, colonel, I wasthinking that a trip to America wouldn't be a bad idea. "

"There are plenty of places to go to without going to America, " said thecolonel. "I tell you that I mean Lollie no harm. "

"Lollie?" Selby was surprised, and showed it. "She hasn't----"

"I don't know what she's done yet, but I think it is time she wentaway, " said the colonel, "and so far as I can judge, it is time you wenttoo, Selby. I don't know whether Lollie is betraying us, and maybe I'mdoing her an injustice, " he went on, "but if I put up to her asuggestion that she should leave the country, maybe she'd probably turnme down. You know how suspicious these women are. The only idea I canthink of is to scare her and make her bolt quick and sudden, and I wantyou to provide the means. "

Selby was waiting. 

"I bought a motor-boat, one of those swift motor-boats that theGovernment used during the war. I have it ready at Twickenham, and youcan get all your goods on board and go to----"

"Where?"

"Anywhere you like, " said the colonel, "Holland, Denmark--one place isas good as another, and it'll be a good sea-going boat. You see, my ideais this. If I think Lollie is negotiating to put us away, I can give hera fright which will make her jump at the means of getting out of Englandby the quickest and shortest route. You can go with her and keep herunder your eye until the trouble blows over. "

He saw a look in the man's face and correctly interpreted it. 

"I'm not worried about _you_ double-crossing me, " he said, "even if youare abroad. I've enough evidence against you to bring you back under anextradition warrant. " He laughed as Selby's face fell. "You see Selby, there's nothing in it that you can take exception to. I don't even knowthat Lollie will refuse to go in the ordinary way, but I must makepreparations. "

"It is a reasonable suggestion, " said Selby, after considering thematter for a few minutes. "I'll do it, colonel. "

"You'd better bring a couple of men to London who can handle Lollie ifshe gives any trouble--no, no, " said the colonel, raising his hand indignified protest, "there's going to be nothing rough. How can there be?You'll be in charge of it all, and it is up to you as to how Lollie istreated. "

It did not occur to Selby until an hour later to ask the colonel how heknew that his hobby was motor-boating, but by that time the colonel hadgone. 

It was true, as Boundary said, that the gang was scared--and badlyscared. It was equally true that they needed only one jar before itbecame a case of every man for himself. Already even the minor memberswere making their preparations to break away. The red light was burningclear before all eyes. But none knew how readily the colonel hadrecognised the signs, and how, in spite of his apparent philosophy andhis contempt of danger, he, more than any of the others, was preparingfor the inevitable crash. 

Jack o' Judgment, he told himself, was playing his game better than hecould play it himself. The arrest of Phillopolis had removed one of themen who might have been an inconvenient witness against him. White wasgone, Raoul was gone. He had planned the disappearance of Selby, a mostdangerous man, and Lollie Marsh, an even more dangerous woman and thereremained only Pinto and Crewe. 

When he had taken leave of his agent, the colonel walked to Westminsterand boarded a car which carried him along the Embankment to Blackfriars. He might have been followed, and probably was, but this possibility didnot worry him. He walked across Ludgate Circus, up St. Bride Street toHatton Garden, and turned into the office of Myglebergs'. Mr. Mygleberg, a very suave and polite gentleman, received him and ushered him into aprivate room. This shrewd Dutchman had no illusions as to the colonel'sprobity, but he had no doubt either that the big man could payhandsomely for everything he bought. 

"I'm glad you've come, colonel, " he said; "I have been expecting you fora couple of days. We have just had a wonderful parcel of stones fromAmsterdam, and I think some of them would suit you. "

He disappeared and came back with a tray covered with the most beautifuldiamonds that had ever left the cutter's hands. The colonel went overthem slowly, examining them and putting a selected number aside. 

"I'll take those, " he said, and Mr. Mygleberg laughed. 

"They're the best, " he chuckled. "Trust you to know a good thing whenyou see it, colonel!"

"What have I to pay for these?"

Mygleberg made a rapid calculation and put the figures before ColonelBoundary. 

"It is a big price, " said the colonel, "but I don't think you haveovercharged. Besides, I could always sell them again for that much. "

Mr. Mygleberg nodded. 

"I think you are wise to put your money into stones, colonel, " he said;"they always go up and never go down in value. You can lose otherthings. They're easy and they're always convertible. I always tell mypartner that if I ever become a millionaire I shall invest every pennyin stones. "

The colonel paid for the gems from a thick wad of notes he took from hiship-pocket. They were, in point of fact, the identical notes whichMaisie White had handed to him the night previous. He waited whilst thejewels were made up into a little oblong package, heavily sealed andinscribed with the colonel's name and address, and then, shaking handswith Mygleberg and fixing a further appointment, he came out into HattonGarden, whistling a little song and apparently the picture ofcontentment. 

He was getting ready for flight too. This, the first of many packageswhich he intended depositing in the private safe of his bank, would gowith the ever-increasing pile of American gold bonds of highdenomination which filled that steel repository. For months the colonelhad been converting his property into paper dollars. They were moreeasily negotiated and less traceable than English banknotes, and theywere more get-at-able. A big balance in the books of the bank might becreditable and, given time, convertible into cash. Then nobody knew buthimself the amount standing to his credit. He was not at the mercy ofprying bank clerks or a manager who might be got at by the police. At aminute's notice, and without anybody being the wiser, he could demandthe contents of his safe and walk from the bank premises without a soulbeing aware that he was carrying the bulk of his fortune away. 

He took a cab and drove now to the bank premises. Ferguson, the manager, received him. 

"Good morning, colonel, " he said. "I was just writing you a note. Youknow your account is getting very low. "

"Is that so?" said the colonel in surprise. 

"I thought you wouldn't realise the fact, " said Ferguson, "but you'vebeen drawing very heavily of late. "

"I'll put it right, " said the colonel. "It is not overdrawn?" he askedjocularly, and Ferguson smiled. 

"You've eighty thousand pounds in Account B, " he said. "I suppose youdon't want to touch that?"

Account B was the euphonious name for the fund which was the commonproperty of all the leaders of the Boundary Gang. 

"Unless you're anxious that I should get penal servitude forfraudulently converting the company's funds?" said the colonel in thesame strain. "No, I'll fix my account some time to-day. In themeantime"--he produced a package from his hip-pocket--"I want this to gointo my safe. "

"Certainly, " said Ferguson, and struck a bell. A clerk answered thecall. "Take Colonel Boundary to the vaults. He wants to depositsomething in his safe, " he said, "or would you like me to do it, colonel?"

"I'll do it myself, " said the colonel. 

He followed the clerk down the spiral staircase to the well-lit vault, and with the key which the man handed him opened Safe No. 20. It wasdivided into two compartments, that on the left consisting of a deepdrawer, which he pulled out. It was half filled with American papercurrency, as he knew--currency neatly parcelled and carefully packed byhis own hands. 

"I often wonder, Colonel Boundary, " said the interested clerk, "why youdon't use the bank safe. When a customer has his own, you know, we arenot responsible for any of his losses. "

"I know that, " said the colonel genially. "Still one must take a risk. "

He placed the package on the top of the money, pushed back the drawer, locked the safe and handed the key to the young man. 

"I think the bank takes enough risks without asking them to accept anymore, " he said, "and besides, I like to take a little risk myselfsometimes. "

"So I've heard, " said the clerk innocently, and the colonel shot aquestioning look at the young man. 

CHAPTER XXXI

THE VOICE AGAIN

He left the bank with the sense of having done his duty by himself. Hehad not planned the route by which he was leaving the country, or thehour. Much was to happen before he shook the dust of England from hisfeet, and as he had arranged matters he would have plenty of time tothink things over before he made his departure. 

A great deal happened in the next few days to make him believe that thenecessity for getting away was not very urgent. He met Stafford King inthe Park one morning, and Stafford had been unusually communicative andfriendly. Then the whispering voices in the flat had temporarily ceased, and Jack o' Judgment had given him no sign of his existence. It was fivedays after he had made his deposit in the bank that the first shock cameto him. He found Snakit waiting on returning from a matinée, and thelittle detective was so important and mysterious that the colonel knewsomething had been discovered. 

"Well, " he asked, closing the door, "what have you found?"

"She is in communication with the police, " said Snakit, "that's whatI've found. "

"Lollie?"

"Miss Marsh is the lady. In communication with the police, " said theother impressively. 

"Now just tell me what you mean, " said the colonel. "Do you mean she'son speaking terms with the policeman on point duty at PiccadillyCircus?"

"I mean, sir, " said Snakit with dignity, "that she's in the habit ofmeeting Mr. Stafford King, who is a well-known man at Scotland Yard----"

"He's well-known here too, " interrupted the colonel. "Where does shemeet him?"

"In all sorts of queer places--that's the suspicious part of it, " saidSnakit, who had joyously entered into the work which had been given tohim, without realising its unlawful character. 

He had accepted without question the colonel's story that he was thevictim of police persecution, and as this was the first news of anyimportance he had been able to bring to his employer, he was naturallyinclined to make the most of it. 

"He has met her twice at eleven o clock at night, at the bottom of St. James's Street, and walked up with her, very deeply engaged inconversation, " said Snakit, consulting his note-book. "He met her onceat the foot of the steps leading down from Waterloo Place, and they weretogether for an hour. This morning, " he went on, speaking slowly, andevidently this was his tit-bit, "this morning Mr. Stafford King went tothe Cunard office in Cockspur Street and booked cabin seventeen on theshelter deck of the _Lapland_ for New York. "

"In what name?"

"In the name of Miss Isabel Trenton. "

The colonel nodded. It was a name that Lollie had used before, and thestory rang true. 

"When does the _Lapland_ sail?" he asked, and again the detectiveconsulted his book. 

"Next Saturday, " he said, "from Liverpool. "

"Very good, " said the colonel; "thank you, Snakit, you've done verywell. See if you can pick them up to-night, or, stay----" He thought amoment. "No, don't shadow her to-night. I'll have a talk with her. "

The news disturbed him. Lollie was getting ready to bolt--that wasunimportant. But she was bolting with the assistance of the police, whohad booked her passage. That meant that they had got as much out of heras she had to tell, and were clearing her out of the country before theblow fell. That was not only important, but it was grave. Either thepolice were going to strike at once or----

An idea struck him, and he telephoned through to Pinto. Another got himinto touch with Crewe, and these three were in consultation when Selbycame that afternoon. 

He arrived at an unpropitious moment, for the colonel was in a coldfury, and the object of his wrath was Crewe, who sat with folded armsand tense face, looking down at the table. 

"That gentleman business is played out, Crewe, " stormed the colonel, "and I'm just about tired of hearing what you won't do and what you willdo! If Lollie's put us away, she has got to go through it. "

"What use will it be, supposing she has?" said the other doggedly. "Idon't for a moment believe she has done anything of the sort. Butsuppose she has given you away, what are you going to do? Add to theindictment? She's sick of the game and wants to get away somewhere whereshe can live a decent life. "

"Oh, you've been discussing it with her, have you?" said the colonelwith dangerous calm. "And maybe you also are sick of the game and wantto get away and live a decent life? I remember hearing you say somethingof that sort a few weeks ago. "

"We're all sick of it, " said Crewe. "Look at Pinto. Do you think he'skeen?"

Pinto started. 

"Why do you bring me into it?" he complained. "I'm standing by thecolonel to the last. And I agree with him that we ought to know whatLollie told the police. "

"She's told them nothing, " said Crewe. "She isn't that kind of girl. Besides, what does she know?"

"She knows a lot, " said the colonel. "I'll put a supposition to you. Suppose she's Jack o' Judgment?"

Crewe looked at him in astonishment. 

"That's an absurd suggestion, " he said. "How could she be?"

"I'll tell you how she could be, " said the colonel; "she has never beenwith us when Jack made his appearance--you'll grant that?"

Crewe thought for a moment. 

"There you're wrong, " he said; "she was with us the night Jack firstcame. "

The colonel was taken aback. A theory which he had formed was destroyedby that recollection. 

"So she was. That's right, she was there! I remember he insulted her. But I'm certain she's seen him since; I am certain she's been workinghand-in-glove with him since. Who was the Jack who went to Yorkshire?"

It was Crewe's turn to be nonplussed. 

"Jack o' Judgment must be working with a pal, " the colonel went ontriumphantly, "and I suggest that that pal is Lollie Marsh. "

"That's a lie!"

The colonel looked up quickly. 

"Who said that?" he demanded harshly. 

Crewe shook his head. 

"It was not me, " he said. 

"Was it you, Selby?"

"Me?" said the astonished Selby. "No, I thought it was you who said it. It came from your end of the table, colonel. "

The colonel got up. 

"There's something wrong here, " he said. 

"I've got it!" It was Pinto who spoke. "Did you notice anything peculiarabout the voice, colonel?" he asked eagerly. "I did, the first time Iheard it, and I've been wondering how I'd heard it before, and just nowit has struck me. It was a gramophone voice!"

"A gramophone voice?"

"It sounded like a voice on a speaking machine. "

The colonel nodded slowly. 

"Now you come to mention it, I think you're right, " he said; "it soundedfamiliar to me. Of course, it was a gramophone voice. "

They made a careful search of the apartment, taking down every bookfrom the big shelf in one of the alcoves, and turning the leaves todiscover the hidden machine. With this idea to guide them the search wasmore complete than it had been before. Every drawer in the desk wastaken out, every scrap of furniture was minutely examined, even themassive legs of the colonel's writing table were tapped. 

Crewe took no part in the search, but watched it with a slight smile ofamusement, and the colonel turning, detected this. 

"What the devil are you grinning about?" he said. "Why aren't youhelping, Crewe? You've got an interest in this business. "

"Not such an interest that I'm going to fool around looking for agramophone voice that goes off at appropriate intervals, " said Crewe. "Doesn't it strike you that it would have to be a pretty smartgramophone to chip in at the right moment?"

The colonel pondered this a minute and then went back to his place atthe table, mopping his forehead. 

"Pinto's right, " he said; "the fellow has smuggled some fool machineinto the flat, and we shall discover it sooner or later. I don't knowhow he controls it, or who controls it"--he looked suspiciously atCrewe--"or who controls it, " he repeated. 

"You said that before, " said Crewe coolly. 

The colonel had something on his lips to say, but swallowed it. 

"We'll meet here to-night at eleven. I told Lollie to come. Now, Crewe, "he said in a more gentle tone, "you're in this up to the neck, andyou've got to go through with it. After all, your life and liberty areat stake as much as ours. If Lollie's played us false, we've got tobe----"

"Lollie has not played you false, colonel, " said Crewe. His face wasvery pale, the colonel noticed. "I like that girl, and----"

"So that's it, " said the colonel, "a little love romance introduced intoour sordid commercial lives! Maybe you know what she's been talking toStafford King about?"

Crewe did not immediately reply. 

"Do you?" asked the colonel. 

"I know she has been trying to get out of the country, to break with thegang, but that she has given you or any of us away is a lie. Lollie'shad a rotten life, and she's just sick of it, that's all. Do you blameher?"

"There's no question of blaming her or praising her, " said the colonelpatiently; "the question is whether we condemn her or whether she stillhas our confidence, and that we shall know to-night. You will bepresent, Crewe. "

"I shall be present, you may be sure, " said Crewe, and there was a lookon his face which Pinto, for one, did not like. 

CHAPTER XXXII

LOLLIE GOES AWAY

It seemed to "Swell" Crewe that the scene was curiously reminiscent of atrial in which he had once participated. The colonel, at the end of thelong table, sat aloof and apparently noncommittal, a veritable judge anda merciless judge at that. Pinto sat at his right, Selby on his left, and Crewe himself sat half-way between the girl at the farther end ofthe table and Pinto. 

Lollie Marsh had no doubt as to why she had been summoned. Her prettyface was drawn, the hands which were clasped on the table before herwere restless, but what Crewe noticed more particularly was a certainuntidiness both in her costume and in her usually well-coiffured hair. As though wearying of the part she had been playing, she was alreadydiscarding her makeup. 

"I hate to bring you here, Lollie, and ask you these questions, " thecolonel was saying, "but we are all in some danger and we want to knowjust where we stand with you. "

She made no reply. 

"The charge against you is that you've been in communication with thepolice. Is that true?"

"If you mean that I've been in communication with Mr. Stafford King, that's true, " she said. "You told me to get into touch with him. Haven'tI been for weeks----"

"That's a pretty good excuse, " interrupted the colonel, "but it won'twork, Lollie. You don't touch with a man like Stafford King and meet himsecretly in St. James's Street. And you don't touch by seeing him forhalf an hour at a time, and I haven't heard of you ever getting offwith a fellow to the extent of his paying for your passage to America. "

She started. 

"You know the way it is done. You did it before, Lollie, " the colonelwent on. "Now, you've got to be a good girl and tell us how far you'vegone. "

She hesitated. 

"I'll tell you the truth, " she said. "I'm sick of this life, colonel. Iwant to go straight. I want to get away out of it all and--and--he'sgoing to help me. "

"A social reformer, eh?" said the colonel. "I didn't know the policewent in for that sort of stunt. And when did he take this sudden likingfor you, Lollie?"

"It wasn't a sudden liking at all, " she said, "but I think it wasbecause--well, because I stopped Pinto in the nursing home--and MissWhite told him--I think that's all. "

The colonel looked down on his pad. 

"There's something in that, " he said. "It sounds feasible. Didn't hequestion you?" he said, raising his eyes. 

"About you?" she said. 

"About us, " corrected the colonel. 

"He asked me nothing about you, nothing about your habits or yourmethods or about any of our funny business. I'll swear it, " she said. 

"You're not going to believe that, are you, colonel?" demanded Pinto. "You can see that she is lying and that she's double-crossing you?"

"She's neither lying nor double-crossing us. " It was Crewe who spoke. "Idon't know what you think about it, colonel, but I am convinced thatLollie is speaking the truth. "

"You!" Pinto laughed loudly. "I think you're in a state of mind whenyou'd believe anything Lollie said. And anyway you're probably in withher. "

"You're a liar, " said Crewe, so quietly that none suspected thesurprising thing that would follow, for of a sudden his fist shot outand caught Pinto under the jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. 

The colonel was instantly on his feet, his hand outspread. 

"That's enough, Crewe, " he said harshly. "I'll have none of that!"

Pinto picked himself up, his face livid. 

"You'll pay for that, " he said breathlessly, but "Swell" Crewe hadwalked to the girl and had laid his hand on her shoulder. 

"Lollie, " he said, "I'm believing you and I think the colonel is, too. If you're going out of the country, why I'll say good luck to you. You've made a very wise decision and one which we shall all make--someof us perhaps too late. "

"Wait a moment, " said the colonel. He exchanged a glance with Selby andthe man slipped quietly from the room. "Before we do any of thatfare-thee-well stuff, I've got a few words to say to you, Lollie. I'mwith Crewe. I think it is time you went out of the country, but you'regoing out my way. "

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

Her hand clutched "Swell" Crewe's sleeve. 

"You're going out my way, " said the colonel, "and I swear no harm willcome to you. You're leaving to-night. "

"But how?" she asked, affrighted. 

"Selby will tell you. You'll meet him downstairs. Now be a sensible girland do as I tell you. Selby will go with you and see you safe. We madeall preparations for your departure to-night. "

"What's this, colonel?" asked Crewe. 

"You're out of it, " said the colonel savagely. "I'm running this showmyself. If you want to join Lollie later, why you can. For the present, she's going just where I want her to go and in the way I have planned. "

He held out his hand to the girl and she took it. 

"Good-bye and good luck, Lollie!" he said. 

"But can't I go back to my rooms?" she asked. 

He shook his head. 

"Do as I tell you, " he said shortly. 

She stood at the door and for a moment her eyes met Crewe's and he movedtoward her. 

"Wait. "

The colonel gripped his arm. 

"Good-bye, Lollie, " and the door shut on the girl. 

"Let me go, " said Crewe between his teeth. "If she trusts you, I don't. This is some trick of that dirty half-breed!"

With a snarl of rage Pinto whipped his ever-ready knife from his hippocket and flung it. It was the colonel who drew Crewe aside, or thatmoment was his last. The knife whizzed past and was buried almost to thehilt in the wall. The colonel broke the tense silence which followed. 

"Pinto, " he said in his silkiest voice, "if you ever want to know whatit feels like to be a dead man, just repeat that performance, will you?"Then his rage burst forth. "By God! I'll shoot either of you if you playthe fool in front of me again. You dirty little pickpockets that I'vetaken from the gutter! You miserable little sneak-thieves!"

He let loose a flood of abuse that made even Crewe wince. 

"Now sit down, both of you, " he finished up, out of breath. 

He went to the window and looked out. The car which he had hired for theoccasion was still standing at the door and he distinguished Selbytalking to the chauffeur. 

"Listen you, " he said, "and especially you, Crewe. You're too trustingwith these females. Maybe Lollie's speaking the truth, but it is just aslikely she's lying. I'm not going to take your corroboration, you know, Crewe, " he said. "We've got to depend on her word. There's nobody elsecan speak for her, is there?"

Before Crewe could speak the colonel was answered:

"_Jack o' Judgment! Poor old Jack o' Judgment! He'll speak for Lollie!_"

The colonel looked up with a curse. There was nobody in the room, butthe voice had been louder than ever he had heard it before. It seemed asthough it emanated from a disembodied spirit that was floating throughthe air. There was a knock at the outer door. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

WHERE THE VOICE LIVED

"Open it, " said the colonel in a low voice; "open it, Crewe"--he pulledopen the drawer and took out something--"and if it is Jack o'Judgment----"

Crewe opened the door, his heart beating at a furious rate, but it wasSelby who came into the room and faced the half-levelled gun of thecolonel. 

"What do you want?" asked Boundary quickly. "You fool, I told you not tolose sight of her----"

"But when is she coming down?" asked Selby. "I've been waiting there allthis time and there's a policeman at the corner of the street--Iwondered whether you had seen him too. "

"Not come down?" said the colonel. "She left here five minutes ago!"

"She hasn't come down, " he said, "and I've certainly not passed her onthe stairs. Is there any other way out?"

"No way that she could use, " said the colonel shaking his head. "I'vehad new locks put on all the doors. " He thought a moment. "If she hasn'tcome down she's gone up. "

They went up the stairs together and searched, first Pinto's flat, andthen the store-rooms and empty apartments on the floor higher up. 

"Go down to the door and wait, in case she tries to get out, " said thecolonel. 

He returned to the room with the two men and they looked at one anotherin frank astonishment. 

"Have you any idea what's happened, Crewe?" asked the colonelsuspiciously. 

"No idea in the world, " said Crewe. 

"But she went downstairs, " said the colonel. "I heard the alarm click. "

"The alarm?" questioned Crewe. 

"I've got a buzzer under one of the treads of the stairs, " said thecolonel. "It is useful to know when people are coming up. "

 * * * * *

Ten minutes passed and Selby returned to say that the policeman had beenmaking inquiries as to whom the car belonged. 

"You'd better get it away, " said the colonel, "and send away your men. "

"They've gone, " said the other. "I wasn't taking any risks. "

He disappeared to carry out the colonel's instructions, and they heardthe whine of the moving car. 

Boundary unlocked his tantalus and took out a full decanter of whisky. Without a word he poured three stiff doses into as many glasses andfilled them with soda. Each man was thinking, and thinking after his owninterests. 

"Well, gentlemen, " said the colonel at last. "I incline to give thisbusiness best. "

He looked up and saw the dagger which Pinto had thrown. It was stillembedded in the wall. 

"It isn't enough that I should have Jack o' Judgment messing my roomabout, " he growled, "but you must do something to the same wall! Pull itout and don't let me see it again, Pinto. "

The Portuguese smiled sheepishly, walked to the wall and gripped thehandle. Evidently the point had embedded in a lath, for the knife didnot move. He pulled again, exerting all his strength and this timesucceeded in extracting not only the knife but a large portion of theplaster and a strip of the wallpaper. 

"You fool!" said the colonel angrily, "see what you have done--JumpingMoses!"

He walked to the wall and stared, for the dislodgment of plaster andpaper had revealed three round black discs, set flush with the plasterand only separated from the room by the wallpaper, which had beenstripped. 

"Jumping Moses!" said the colonel softly. "Detectaphones!"

He took Pinto's knife from his hand and prised one of the discs loose. It was attached to a wire which was embedded in the plaster and this thecolonel severed with a stroke of the knife. 

"This is the business end of a microphone, " he said. 

"The voice!" gasped Pinto, and the colonel nodded. 

"Of course. I was mad not to guess that, " he said. "That's how he heardand that's how he spoke. Now, we're going to get to the bottom of this. "

With a knife he slashed the plaster and exposed three wires that ledstraight downward and apparently through the floor. The colonel restedand eyed the debris thoughtfully. 

"What is under this flat? Lee's office, isn't it? Of course, Lee's!" hesaid. "I'm the fool!"

He handed the knife back to Pinto, took an electric torch from hispocket and led the way from the flat. They passed down the half-darkenedstairs to the floor beneath, on which was situated the three sets ofoffices. The colonel took a bunch of keys and tried them on the door ofthe surveyor's office. Presently he found one that fitted, and the dooropened. He fumbled about for the electric switch, found it and floodedthe room with light. It was a very ordinary clerk's office, with a smallcounter, the flap of which was raised. Inside the flap he saw somethingwhite on the floor, and, stooping, picked it up. It was a lady'shandkerchief. 

"L, " he read. "That sounds like Lollie. Do you know this, Crewe?"

Crewe took the handkerchief and nodded. 

"That is Lollie's, " he said shortly. 

"I thought so. This is where she was when we were looking for her. Herewith Jack o' Judgment, eh? Let's try the inner office. "

The inner office was locked, but he had no difficulty in gainingadmission. Inside this was a private office which was simply furnishedand had in one corner what appeared to be a telephone box. He opened theglass door and flashed his lamp inside. There was a little desk, a pairof receivers fastened to a headpiece, and a small vulcanite transmitter. 

"This is where he sat, " said the colonel meditatively, pointing to astool, "and this----" he lifted up the earpieces--"is how he heard allour very interesting conversations. Go upstairs, Pinto, I want to trythis transmitter. "

He fixed the receiver to his ears and waited, and presently he hearddistinctly the sound of Pinto closing the door of the room upstairs. Then he spoke through the receiver. 

"Do you hear me, Pinto?"

"I hear you distinctly, " said Pinto's voice. 

"Speak a little lower. Carry on a conversation with yourself and let metry to hear you. "

Pinto obeyed. He recited something from the Orpheum revue, a line or twoof a song, and the colonel heard distinctly every syllable. He replacedthe earpieces where he had found them, closed the door of the box andthat of the outer office, and led the way upstairs. The whisky stillstood upon the table and he lifted a glass and drained it at a draught. 

"If you're a linguist, Crewe, you'll have heard of the phrase: _Sauvequi peut_. It means 'Git!' And that's the advice I'm giving and taking. To-morrow we'll meet to liquidate the Boundary Gang and split the GangFund. "

He turned his companions out to get what sleep they could. For him therewas little sleep that night. Before the dawn came, he was at Twickenham, examining a big motor-launch that lay in a boat-house. It was the launchwhich should have carried Lollie Marsh and Selby on their river and seajourney. It was provisioned and ready for the trip. But first thecolonel had to take from a locker in the stern of the boat a small blackbox and disconnect the wires from certain terminals before he stopped alittle clock which ticked noisily. He had tuned his bomb to go off atfour in the morning, by which time, he calculated, Lollie Marsh and herescort would be well out to sea. For the colonel regarded no evidencethat might be brought against him as unimportant. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

CONSCIENCE MONEY

The colonel was sleeping peacefully when Pinto rushed into his bedroomwith the news. He was awake in a second and sat up in bed. 

"What!" he said incredulously. 

"Selby's pinched, " said Pinto, his voice shaking. "My God! It's awful!It's dreadful! Colonel, we've got to get away to-day. I tell you they'llhave us----"

"Just shut up for a minute, will you?" growled the colonel, swinging outof bed and searching for his slippers with the detached interest of onewho was hearing a little gossip from the morning papers. "What is thecharge against him?"

"Loitering with intention to commit a felony, " said Pinto. "They tookhim to the station and searched his bag. He had brought a bag with himin preparation for the journey. And what do you think they found?"

"I know what they found, " said the colonel; "a complete kit of burglar'stools. The fool must have left his bag in the hall and of course Jack o'Judgment planted the stuff. It is simple!"

"What can we do?" wailed Pinto. "What can we do?"

"Engage the best lawyer you can. Do it through one of your pals, " saidthe colonel. "It will go hard with Selby. He's had a previousconviction. "

"Do you think he'll split?" asked Pinto. 

He looked yellow and haggard and he had much to do to keep his teethfrom chattering. 

"Not for a day or two, " said the colonel, "and we shall be away by then. Does Crewe know?"

Pinto shook his head. 

"I haven't any time to run about after that swine, " he said impatiently. 

"Well, you'd better do a little running now then, " said the colonel. "We may want his signature for the bank. "

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to draw what we've got and I advise you to do the same. Isuppose you haven't made any preparations to get away, have you?"

"No, " lied Pinto, remembering with thankfulness that he had received aletter that morning from the aviator Cartwright, telling him that themachine was in good order and ready to start at any moment. "No, I havenever thought of getting away, colonel. I've always said I'll stick tothe colonel----"

"H'm!" said the colonel, and there was no very great faith in Pintorevealed in his grunt. 

Crewe came along an hour later and seemed the least perturbed of thelot. 

"Here's the cheque-book, " said the colonel, taking it from a drawer. "Now the balance we have, " he consulted a little waistcoat-pocketnotebook, "is £81, 317. I suggest we draw £80, 000, split it three waysand part to-night. "

"What about your own private account?" asked Pinto. 

"That's my business, " said the colonel sharply. He filled in the cheque, signed his name with a flourish and handed the pen to Crewe. 

Crewe put his name beneath, saw that the cheque was made payable tobearer, and handed the book to the colonel. 

"Here, Pinto. " The colonel detached the form and blotted it. "Take ataxi-cab, see Ferguson, bring the money straight back here. Or, betterstill, go on to the City to the New York Guaranty and change it intoAmerican money. "

"Do you trust Pinto?" asked Crewe bluntly after the other had gone. 

"No, " said the colonel, "I don't trust Pinto or you. And if Pinto hadplenty of time I shouldn't expect to see that money again. But he's gotto be back here in a couple of hours, and I don't think he can get awaybefore. Besides, at the present juncture, " he reflected, "he wouldn'tbolt because he doesn't know how serious the position is. "

"Where are you going, colonel?" asked Crewe curiously. "I mean, when youget away from here?"

Boundary's broad face creased with smiles. 

"What a foolish question to ask, " he said. "Timbuctoo, Tangier, America, Buenos Ayres, Madrid, China----"

"Which means you're not going to tell, and I don't blame you, " saidCrewe. 

"Where are you going?" asked the colonel. "If you're a fool you'll tellme. "

Crewe shrugged his shoulders. 

"To gaol, I guess, " he said bitterly, and the colonel chuckled. 

"Maybe you've answered the question you put to me, " he said, "but I'mgoing to make a fight of it. Dan Boundary is too old in the bones andhates exercise too much to survive the keen air and the bracingemployment of Dartmoor--if we ever got there, " he said ominously. 

"What do you mean?" demanded Crewe. 

"I mean that, when they've photographed Selby and circulated hispicture, somebody is certain to recognise him as the man who handed theglass of water over the heads of the crowd when Hanson was killed----"

"Was it Selby?" gasped Crewe. "I wasn't in it. I knew nothing aboutit----"

The colonel laughed again. 

"Of course you're not in anything, " he bantered. "Yes, it was Selby, andit is ten chances to one that the usher would recognise him again if hesaw him. That would mean--well, they don't hang folks at Dartmoor. " Helooked at his watch again. "I expect Pinto will be about an hour and ahalf, " he said. "You will excuse me, " he added with elaborate politeness"I have a lot of work to do. "

He cleared the drawers of his writing-table by the simple process ofpulling them out and emptying their contents upon the top. He wentthrough these with remarkable rapidity, throwing the papers one by oneinto the fire, and he was engaged in this occupation when Pintoreturned. 

"Back already?" said the colonel in surprise, and then, after a glanceat the other's face, he demanded: "What's wrong?"

Pinto was incapable of speech. He just put the cheque down upon thetable. 

"Haven't they cashed it?" asked the colonel with a frown. 

"They can't cash it, " said Pinto in a hollow voice. "There's no moneythere. "

The colonel picked up the cheque. 

"So there's no money there to meet it?" he said softly. "And why isthere no money there to meet it?"

"Because it was drawn out three days ago. I thought----" said Pintoincoherently. "I saw Ferguson, and he told me that a cheque for the fullamount came through from the Bank of England. "

"In whose favour was it drawn?"

Pinto cleared his throat. 

"In favour of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, " he said. "That's whyFerguson passed it without question. He said that otherwise he wouldhave sent a note to you. "

"The Chancellor of the Exchequer!" snarled the colonel. "What does itmean?"

"Look here! Ferguson showed it me himself. " He took a copy of _TheTimes_ from his pocket and laid it on the table, pointing out theparagraph with trembling fingers. 

It was in the advertisement column and it was brief:

 "The Chancellor of the Exchequer desires to acknowledge the receipt of £81, 000 Conscience Money from Colonel D. B. "

"Conscience money!"

The colonel sat back in his chair and laughed softly. He was genuinelyamused. 

"Of course, we can get this back, " he said at last. "We can explain tothe Chancellor of the Exchequer the trick that has been played upon us, but that means delay, and at the moment delay is really dangerous. Isuppose both you fellows have money of your own? I know Pinto has. Howdo you stand, Crewe?"

"I have a little, " said Crewe, "but honestly, I was depending upon myshare of the Gang Fund. "

"What about you, colonel?" asked Pinto meaningly. "If I may suggest it, we should pool our money and divide. "

The colonel smiled. 

"Don't be silly, " he said tersely. "I doubt whether my balance at thebank is more than a couple of thousand pounds. "

"But what about your private safe?" persisted Pinto. "A-ha! You didn'tknow I knew that, did you? As a matter of fact, Ferguson told me----"

"What the devil does Ferguson mean by discussing my business?" said thecolonel wrathfully. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me that the package was received and that he had put it withthe other in your safe. "

"Package!" The colonel's voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "The packagewas received! When was the package received?"

"Yesterday, " said Pinto. "He said it came along and he put it with theother. Now what have you got in----"

But the colonel was walking towards his bedroom with rapid strides. Presently he reappeared with his hat and coat on. 

"Come with me, Crewe. We'll go down to the bank, " he said. "You stayhere, Pinto, and report anything that happens. "

When they were on their way he confided to the other:

"I have a little money put aside, " he said, "and I'm willing to financeyou. You haven't been a bad fellow, Crewe. The only rotten turn you'veever done us is introducing that damned fellow, 'Snow' Gregory, and youdidn't even do that, for I had met him before you brought him fromMonte--which reminds me. Have you found out anything about him?"

"I have a letter here from Oxford, " said Crewe, putting his hand in hispocket. "I hadn't opened my letters when Pinto came. You'll find all thenews there, if there is any news. "

He handed the envelope to the other and the colonel transferred it tohis pocket. 

"That'll keep, " he said. "What was I talking about? Oh, yes, Gregory. The whole of this business has come about through Gregory. Gregory madeJack o' Judgment, and Jack o' Judgment has ruined us. "

He sprang from the taxi at the door of the bank with an agile step, andwent straight to the manager's office. Without any preliminary he began:

"What is this package that came for me yesterday, Ferguson?"

The manager looked surprised. 

"It was an ordinary package, similar to that which you put in the safethe other day. It was sealed and wrapped and had your name on it. Irather wondered you hadn't brought it yourself, but it was put into yoursafe in the presence of two clerks. "

"I'd like to see it, " said the colonel. 

Ferguson led the way down the stairs to the vaults and snapped back thelock of Safe 20. As he did so Crewe was conscious of a faint, mustyodour. 

"I smell something, " said the colonel suspiciously. 

He reached his hand into the safe and pulled open the long drawer, andas he did so a cloud of sickly-smelling vapour rose from its interior. For the first time Crewe heard Boundary groan. He pulled the drawer outunder the light and looked in. There was nothing but a black mass ofpulp, out of which glinted and gleamed a dozen pin-points of light. 

With a howl of rage the colonel turned the contents upon the stonefloor of the vault and raked it over with the end of his walking-stick. The diamonds were intact, and they at least were something; but thegreater part of eight hundred thousand dollars was indistinguishablefrom any other kind of paper that had been treated with one of the mostdestructive acids known to chemical science. 

CHAPTER XXXV

IN A BOX AT THE ORPHEUM

The colonel wiped his burnt and discoloured hands after he had droppedthe last diamond into a medicine bottle which the bank manager happenedto have in the room. 

"That's something saved from the wreck, at any rate, " he said. 

He had gone suddenly old, and his mouth trembled, as many a youngermouth had trembled in despair that Colonel Boundary might become a richman. 

"Something saved from the wreck, " he repeated slowly. 

The manager's grave eyes were fixed on his. 

"I'm not blaming you, Ferguson, " said the colonel. "It was a plot toruin me, and it succeeded. "

"What do you think happened?" asked the troubled Ferguson. 

"The second package was a box filled with a very strong acid, " said thecolonel. "Probably the box was made of soft metal, through which theacid would eat in a few hours. It was placed in the safe, and in timethe corrosive worked through----"

He shrugged his shoulders and left the room without another word. 

"Thirty-five years' work that represents, Crewe, " he said as they weredriving back to the flat; "thirty-five years of risk and thought andorganisation, and ended in pulp--stinking pulp--that burns your fingerswhen you touch it. "

He began to whistle and Crewe noticed with curiosity that he chose the"Soldiers' Chorus" from "Faust" for the dirge to his lost fortune. 

"Jack o' Judgment!" he said wonderingly. "Jack o' Judgment! Well, he'shad his judgment all right, and I'm going to have mine. You needn'ttell Pinto what happened this morning. Leave him guessing. He's got apretty thick bank-roll, and I'll agree to that grand scheme of his forsharing out. "

The thought seemed to cheer him, and by the time they reached the flathe was almost jovial. 

"Well, what's the news?" asked Pinto eagerly. 

"Fine, " said the colonel. "Everything is as it should be. "

"Stop rotting, " growled the other. "What is the news?"

"The news, my lad, " said the colonel, "is that I've decided to agree toyour unselfish suggestion. "

"What's that?" said the unsuspicious Pinto. 

"That we should pool and divide. "

"Jack o' Judgment's got your money, too!" said Pinto, who cherished noillusions about the colonel's generosity. 

"How well he knows me!" said Boundary. "Now, come, Pinto, we're all inthis, sink or swim. I told Crewe going down that I intended dividing;didn't I, Crewe?"

"You said something like that, " said Crewe cautiously. 

"Now we'll pool our money, " said the colonel, "and split three ways. I'll make a fair proposition. We'll divide it into four and the man whoputs in the most shall take two shares. Is it a bet?"

"I suppose so, " said Pinto reluctantly. "What is the truth about yourmoney? Did Jack o' Judgment get it?"

"I hadn't any money, " said the colonel blandly. "I've about a thousandpounds hidden away in this room; that is all, if Jack hasn't been in. "

He unlocked the safe and made an inspection. 

"Yes, a little over a thousand, if anything. How much have you, Crewe?"

"Three thousand, " said Crewe. 

"That makes four thousand. Now what have you got, Pinto?"

"I've about five thousand, " said Pinto, trying to appear unconcerned. 

The colonel made a little whistling noise through his teeth. 

"Bring fifty, " he said. "I'm dead serious, Pinto. Bring fifty!"

"But how can I get it?" demanded the other frantically. 

"Get it, " said the colonel. "It is highly probable that it will be of nouse to any of us. Let us at least have the illusion of being well off. "

 * * * * *

In greater leisure than either of her three companions in crime wereexhibiting, Lollie Marsh was preparing to take her departure to NewYork. She was packing at leisure in her cosy flat on Tavistock Avenue, stopping now and again to consider the problem of the superfluousarticle of clothing--a problem which presents itself to all packers. 

Between whiles she arrested her labours to think of something else. Kneeling down by the side of her trunk, she would give herself up tolong reveries, which ended in a sigh and the resumption of her packing. 

By the commonly accepted standards of civilisation she was a wickedwoman, but there are degrees of wickedness. She had searched her mind torecall all the qualms she had felt in her long association with theBoundary Gang, and took an unusual pleasure in her strange recollection. She remembered when she had refused to be drawn into the Crotin fraud;she recalled her stormy interview with the colonel when she declined totake a part in the ruining of young Debenham. 

But mostly she was glad that she had never gone any farther to carry outthe colonel's instructions in regard to Stafford King. Not that shewould have succeeded, she told herself with a little smile, but she wasglad she had never seriously tried. Her mind switched to Crewe andswitched back again. Crewe's was the one face she did not wish to see, the one member of the gang that she put aside from the others andwilfully veiled. Crewe had always been kind to her, always courteous, her champion in all bad times, and yet had never made love to her. Shewondered what had brought him down to his present level, and why a manpossessed of education, and who at one time, as she knew, had been anofficer in a crack regiment, should have fallen so readily underBoundary's influence. 

She made a little face and went on with her packing. She did not want tothink about Crewe for obvious reasons. Yet, as he had said---- But hehadn't said, she told herself. Very likely he was married, though thatfact did not greatly trouble the girl. Such men as these have always agood as well as a bad past, pleasant as well as bitter memories, andpossibly he included amongst the former the recollection of a girl whoseshoelaces Lollie Marsh was not fit to tie. 

She took a delight in torturing herself with pictures of her ownhumiliation, though she may have counted it to the good that she wascapable of feeling humiliated at all. She finished her trunk, squeezedin the last article and locked down the lid. She looked at her wristwatch--it was half-past nine. Stafford King had not asked to see her, and she had the evening free. 

She had only spoken the truth when she had told Boundary that the policechief had made no inquiries as to the gang. Stafford King knew humannature rather well, and he would not make the mistake of questioningher. Or perhaps it was because he did not wish to spoil the value of hisgifts by fixing a price--the price of treachery. 

She wondered what the colonel was doing, and Pinto--and Crewe. Sheimpatiently stamped her foot. She was indulging in the kind of insanityof which hitherto she had shown no symptoms. She looked at her watchagain and then remembered the Orpheum. It was a favourite house of hers. She could always get a free box if there was one vacant, and she hadspent many of her lonely evenings in that way. She had always declinedPinto's offer to share his own, and of late he had got out of the habitof inviting her. 

She dressed and took a taxi to the Orpheum. The booking office clerkknew her, and without asking her desires drew a slip from the ticketrack. 

"I can give you Box C to-night, Miss Marsh, " he said. "That is the oneabove the governor's. "

The "governor" was Pinto. 

"Have you a good house?"

The youth shook his head. 

"We're not having the houses we had when Miss White was here, " he said. "What's become of her, miss?"

"I don't know, " said Lollie shortly. 

She had to pass to the back of Pinto's box to reach the little staircasewhich led to the box above. She thought she heard voices, and stoppingat the door, listened. Perhaps Crewe had come down or the colonel. Butit was not Crewe's voice she heard. The door was slightly ajar, and theman who was talking was evidently on the point of departure, because sheglimpsed his hand upon the handle and his voice was so distinct that hemust have been quite near her. 

"----three o'clock in the morning. You can't miss the aerodrome. It is amile out of Bromley on the main road and on the right. You will seethree red lamps burning in a triangle. "

The aerodrome! She put her hand to her mouth to suppress an exclamation. Pinto was talking, but his voice was a mumble. 

"Very good, " said the strange voice. "I can carry three or fourpassengers if you like. There's plenty of room--of course, if you're byyourself, so much the better. I shall expect you at three o'clock. Theweather's beautiful. "

The door opened and she crouched against the wall so that the openingdoor hid her, and heard Pinto call the man back by name. 

"Cartwright!" she repeated. "Cartwright. A mile out of Bromley on themain road. Three lamps in a red triangle!"

She was going to slip up the stairs, but the door had closed onCartwright, and making a swift decision she passed the box and cameagain into the vestibule of the theatre. Presently she saw the manappear. She guessed it was he by the smile on his face, and when he said"Good night" to the attendant at the barrier she recognised his voice. She followed him but let him get outside the theatre before she spoke tohim. Then suddenly she laid her hand on his arm: "Mr. Cartwright!"

He looked round into her smiling face in surprise, taking off his hat. 

"That is my name, " he said with a smile. "I don't remember----"

"Oh, I'm a friend of Mr. Silva, " she said. "I've heard a lot about you. "

"Oh, indeed?" said he. 

He was a little puzzled because he thought that the projected flight wasa dead secret; and she guessed his thoughts. 

"You won't tell Mr. Silva I told you? He begged me not to repeat it toanybody, even to you. But he's leaving to-morrow morning, isn't he?"

He nodded. 

"I know an awful lot, " she said, and then: "Won't you come and havesupper with me? I'm starving!"

Cartwright hesitated. He had not expected so charming a diversion, andreally there was no reason why he should not accept the invitation. Hewas not due at Bromley until early in the morning, and the girl wasyoung and pretty and a friend of his employer. It was she who hailed thetaxi and they drove to a select little restaurant at the back ofShaftesbury Avenue. 

"You're not seeing Pinto--I mean Mr. Silva--again to-night, are you?"she asked. 

"No, I'm not seeing him until--well, until I see him, " he smiled again. 

"Well, I want to tell you something. "

He thought she was charmingly embarrassed, and in truth she was, toinvent the story she had to tell. 

"You know why Mr. Silva is leaving England in such a hurry?"

He nodded. She wished she knew too, or had the slightest inkling of theyarn which Pinto had spun. And then the man enlightened her. 

"Political, " he said. 

"Exactly; political, " she said easily. "But you will realise that it isnot necessarily he himself who is making this flight. "

"I did understand that he was making the flight himself, " said theaviator in surprise. 

"But"--she was desperate now--"has he never told you of the othergentleman who was coming, the other political person who really must goto Portugal at once?"

"No, he certainly did not, " said Cartwright; "he told me distinctly thathe was going himself. "

The girl leaned back in her chair, baffled, but thoughtful. 

"Oh, of course, he told you that, " she said with a knowing smile. "Yousee, there are some things he is not allowed to tell you. But do not besurprised if you have two passengers instead of one. "

"I shan't be surprised, I shall be pleased. The machine will carry halfa dozen, " said Cartwright readily, "but I certainly thought----"

"Wait till you see him, " said the girl, waving a warning finger withmock solemnity. 

He found her a cheerful companion through the meal, but there werecertain intervals of abstraction in her cheerfulness, intervals when shewas thinking very rapidly and reconstructing the plan which Pinto hadmade. So he was one of the rats who were deserting the sinking ship andleaving the Colonel and Crewe to face the music. And Crewe--that was thethought uppermost in her mind. 

When she parted from the pilot she had only one thought--to warn thecolonel of Pinto's treachery--and Crewe. And somehow Crewe seemed tobulk most importantly at that moment. 

CHAPTER XXXVI

LOLLIE PROPOSES

What should she do? It was her sense of loyalty which brought thecolonel first to her mind. She must warn him. She went into a Tubestation telephone box and rang through but received no answer. Her questfor Crewe had as little result. She drove off to the flat, thinking thatpossibly the telephone might be out of order or that they would havereturned by the time she reached there, but there was no answer to herring. She went out again into the street in despair and walked slowlytowards Regent Street. Then she saw two people ahead of her, andrecognised the swing of the colonel's shoulders. She broke into a runand overtook them. The colonel swung round as she uttered his name andpeered at her. 

"Lollie!" he said in surprise, and he looked past her as though seekingsome police shadow. 

"I have something important to tell you, " she said. "Let us go up here. "

They turned into a deserted side street, and rapidly she told her story. 

"So Pinto's getting out, is he?" said the colonel thoughtfully. "Well, it is no more than I expected. An aeroplane, too? Well, that'senterprising. I thought of something of the sort, but there's nowhere Icould go, except to America. "

He dropped his head on to his chest and was considering something. 

"Thank you, Lollie, " he said simply. "I'm glad that you didn't go withSelby--you would never have got to the Continent alive. "

He said this in an ordinary conversational tone, and the girl gasped. She did not ask him for an explanation and he offered none. Crewe, standing in the background, looked at the man with something likebewilderment. 

"And now I think you'd better make a real getaway, and not trust to thepolice, " said the colonel. "Maybe with the best intentions in the world, Stafford King can't save you if I happen to be jugged. And you too, Crewe, " he turned to the other. 

"So Pinto is going, eh?" he bit his nether lip, "and that is why hepromised to bring the fifty thousand to-morrow morning. Well, somehow Idon't think Pinto will go, " he spoke deliberately. "I don't think Pintowill go. "

"It is too dangerous for you to stop him----" began Crewe. 

"I shall not try to stop him, " said the other; "there's somebody besidesmyself on Pinto's track, and that somebody is going to pull him down. "

"But why don't you escape, colonel?" she urged. "There is the aeroplanewaiting at Bromley. We could easily persuade the man that Pinto had sentus. "

He shook his head. 

"You take your own advice, " he said, "and clear out to-night. Get heraway, Crewe. Don't worry about the police. You've got twenty-four hoursin hand. This is Pinto's night, " he said between his teeth. "Pinto--thedirty hound!"

Slowly they paced the street together in silence. When they came to theend the colonel turned. 

"I want to shake hands with you, Lollie. I shook hands with you oncebefore, intending to send you to a very quick decease. You're carryingyour money with you, aren't you, Crewe?"

"Yes, " said the other. 

"Good!" responded the colonel. "Now get away. "

He took no other farewell but turned abruptly and left them. Crewe wasfollowing him, but the girl caught his arm. 

"Don't go, " she said in a low voice. "Don't you know the colonelbetter?"

"I hate leaving him like this, " he said. 

"So do I, " said the girl quietly. "I've still got some decent feelingleft. We're all in this together. We're all crooks, as bad as we canpossibly be, and if he's used us we've been willing tools. What is yourChristian name?" she asked. 

He looked at her in surprise. 

"Jack, " he said. "What a weird question to ask!"

"Isn't it?" she said with a laugh but a little catch in her throat. "Only we're to be comrades and stick to one another, and I hate callingyou by your surname, so I'm going to call you Jack. "

It was his turn to be amused. They walked in the opposite direction tothat which the colonel had taken. 

"You're very quiet, " she said after a while. 

"Aren't I?" he laughed. 

"Have I offended you?" she asked quickly. "Was it wrong to call youJack? Oh, yes, somebody else must have called you Jack. "

"No, no, it isn't that, " he said, "but I haven't been called by myChristian name for years and years, " he said wearily, "and somehow itseems to span all the bad times and take me back to the--the----"

"The 'Jack' days?" she suggested, and he nodded. 

Then after another period of silence. 

"This is a queer ending to it all, isn't it?" he said, and her heartskipped a beat. 

"Ending?" she whispered. "No, no, not ending! It may be the beginning ofa new life. I haven't got religious, " she added quickly, "and I'm notgetting sentimental. All my past life doesn't come up in front of me asit does in the story-books. Only I've just faith that there's somethingbetter in life than I've ever found. "

"I should think there is, " said Crewe. "It couldn't be much worse, could it?"

"I haven't been bad, " she said--"not bad like you probably think Ihave. "

"I never thought you were bad, " he said. "You were just a victim likethe rest of them. You were only a kid when you started working for thecolonel, weren't you?"

She nodded. 

"Well, there's a chance for you, Lollie. Your passage is booked and allthat sort of thing--have you sufficient money?"

"I've plenty of money, " she said. 

"Fine!" He dropped his hand lightly on her shoulder. "There's a big, bigchance for you, my girl. "

"And for you?" she asked. 

He laughed. 

"There is no chance for me at all, " he said simply. "They'll take me andthey'll take Pinto and last of all they'll take the colonel. It iswritten, " he added philosophically. "Why--why, what is the matter?"

She stood stock-still and was holding on to his arm with both hands. 

"You mustn't say that, you mustn't say that!" she said brokenly. "Itisn't finished for you, Jack. There's a chance to get out, and thecolonel has told you there's a chance. He meant it. He knows much morethan we do. If you've got murder on your soul, or something worse; ifyou feel that you're altogether so bad that there isn't a chance foryou, that there's no goodness in your life which can be expanded, why, just wait and take what's coming. But for God's sake know your mind, andif you feel that in another land, with--with someone who loves you byyour side----"

Her voice broke. 

"Why, Lollie, " he said very gently. "You don't mean----?"

"I'm just as shameless as I've ever been" she said, "but I'm notproposing to marry you, I'm not asking for anything save your friendshipand your comradeship. I think people can love one anotherwithout--marrying and all that sort of thing; but do you--will you----"

"Will I go?" he asked. 

She nodded. 

"I'll go anywhere with that prospect in sight, " and he slipped his armround her shoulders, and, bending, kissed her on the cheek. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE FALL OF PINTO

Whilst Pinto was putting the finishing touches to his scheme of flight, the colonel paced his room, whistling the "Soldiers' Chorus" jerkily. Hewas restless and nervous, and rendered all the more irritable by thedisappearance of his servant, a minor member of the gang, who had been aparticipant in every act of villainy, and who had been in charge of thearrangements for the abduction of Maisie White. Twice in the course ofthe evening he wandered through the hall, opened the outer door, andlooked out on to the landing. 

On the first occasion there was nothing to see, but on the second it wasonly by the narrowest margin of time that he failed to detect a darkfigure moving noiselessly up the stairs and disappearing on to thesecond landing. The man above heard the door open and close again, andstood watching. Then, when no sound reached him, he moved to the door ofPinto's flat, opened it, deposited the suit-case which he was carryingin the hall, and closed the door softly behind him. 

He was within for about a quarter of an hour, then he reappeared, andstill carrying his suit-case, passed swiftly down the stairs and outinto the street. The clock struck half-past nine as he disappeared, anda quarter of an hour later Stafford King received by special messenger acommunication which gave him something to think about. He read itthrough twice, then called up the First Commissioner and gave him thegist of the communication. 

"That's the third time we've had this sort of message, " he said. 

"The others have proved right, " said the Commissioner's voice, "whyshouldn't this?"

"But it seems incredible, " said Stafford in perplexity. "We've beenwatching these people for years and we've never found them with thegoods. "

"I should certainly act on it, King, if I were you, " said theCommissioner. "Let me know what happens. Of course, you may make amistake, but you must take a chance on that. "

Pinto had a lot of business to do at the theatre that night. For a weekhe had not banked the theatre's takings, but had converted them intopaper money, and now he took from his safe the last penny he couldcarry. It was half-past eleven when he came to his Club, where supperhad been prepared for him. He paid the bill from notes he had taken fromthe bank that day. Presently the waiter came back. 

"I beg your pardon, sir, but the cashier says that this note is a wrong'un. "

"A wrong 'un?" said Pinto in surprise, and took it in his hand. 

There was no doubt whatever that the man was right. It was the mostobvious forgery he had ever handled. 

"Then I've been sold, " he smiled; "here's another. "

He took the second note and examined it. That also was bad, as he couldtell at a glance. In the tail pocket of his dress-coat he had the moneyhe had taken from the theatre and was able to settle the bill. He wasworried on the journey back to the flat. He had drawn a hundred poundsfrom the bank that morning in five-pound notes. He remembered puttingthem into his pocket-book and had no occasion to disturb them since. Itwas unlikely that the bank would have given him such obvious forgeries. He was stepping from the taxi when the awful truth dawned on him. Thenotes had been planted, the forgeries substituted for the good paper! Hewas putting his hand in his pocket, intending to take out the money andpush it down the nearest drain, when he was gripped. 

"Sorry and all that, " said a voice. 

He turned round shaking like an aspen. 

"Stafford King, " he said dully. 

"Stafford King it is. I have a warrant for your arrest, Silva, on acharge of forging and uttering. Bring him up to his rooms. "

The colonel heard the noise on the stairs and came to the door. Hestood, a silent spectator, watching with unmoved face the procession asit passed up to the floor above. 

"I want your key, " said Stafford, and humbly the Portuguese handed it tohim. 

Stafford opened the door and snapped on the light. 

"Bring him in, " he said to the detective who held Pinto. "What room isthis?"

"My dining-room, " said Pinto faintly. 

Stafford entered the room, turning on the light as he did so. 

"Hullo, Pinto, " he said. 

Pinto could only look. 

The table was littered with copper-plates and ink rollers. There was athick pad of counterfeit money on one corner of the table, held down bya paper weight; little bottles of acids were scattered about, and nearthe table was a small lever press, so small that a man might carry it ina corner of his handbag. 

"I think I have got you, Pinto, " said Stafford King, and Pinto Silvanodded before he fell limply into the arms of his captor. 

 * * * * *

Maisie White had gone to bed early and the bell rang three times beforeshe awoke. She slipped into a dressing-gown, and, going to the window, leaned out. She looked down upon the upturned face of a girl and inspite of the distance and the darkness of the night, recognised her. Theman who stood in the background, however, she could not for the momentplace. Nevertheless, she did not hesitate to go downstairs. 

"Is that Miss White?" asked the girl. 

"Yes. It is Lollie Marsh, isn't it? Won't you come in?"

Lollie was hesitant. 

"Yes, " she said after awhile and they went upstairs together. "I'm verysorry I disturbed you, Miss White, but it is a matter which can't verywell wait. You know that Mr. Stafford King has been kind to me?"

Maisie nodded. She was looking at the girl with interest and wassurprised to note how pretty she was. She could not forget what LollieMarsh had done for her that dreadful night at the nursing home, and ifthe truth be told, she had inspired the assistance which Stafford hadbeen giving the girl. 

"Mr. King has booked my passage to America, as you probably know, "Lollie went on, "but at the last moment I have been obliged to change myplans. "

"I'm sorry to hear that, " said the girl. "I was hoping that you'd getaway before----"

"I am hoping to get away before, " Lollie smiled faintly. "But you see, one has to be very quick, because things are moving at such a rapidrate. They arrested Pinto to-night--we only just heard of it. "

"Arrested Silva?" said the girl in surprise. "That is news to me. Whatis the charge?"

"I didn't quite understand what the charge was. I know he's arrested, "said Lollie. "The colonel has advised me to get out as quickly as I can. And there's a big chance for me, Miss White. I'm going to be married!"

She blurted the words out, and Maisie stared at her. Somehow she hadnever thought of Lollie Marsh as a person who would get married, and itwas amazing to see the confusion and shyness in which her confession hadthrown her. 

"I congratulate you with all my heart, " said Maisie. "Who is thefortunate man?"

"I can't tell you. Yes, I will, " said the girl. "I'll trust you. I'mmarrying Jack Crewe. "

"Crewe? I remember. Mr. King spoke about him. But isn't he one ofthe--isn't he a friend of the colonel?"

Lollie nodded. 

"Yes, but we're going away to-night. That is why I came to see you. "

Maisie White clasped the girl's hands in hers. 

"You yourself are facing a great happiness and a beautiful life, "pleaded Lollie, her eyes filling with tears. "Can't you feel somesympathy with me? For I want love and happiness and security more eventhan you, because you have never known anything of the dreadfulapprehensions and uncertainties such as I have passed through. And Iwant you to help me in this. I'm not going to ask you to influence Mr. King to do anything but his duty. But I want just a chance for Jack. "

Maisie shook her head. 

"I don't know that I can promise that, " she said. "Mr. King has alwaysspoken of your friend as one of the least dangerous of the gang. Whenare you leaving?"

"To-night. "

"To-night? But how?"

"That's a secret. "

"But it is a secret I won't reveal, " smiled Maisie. 

"By aeroplane, " said Lollie after a moment's hesitation, and told thestory of Pinto's preparation. 

"You'd better not tell me where you're going, " warned Maisie, but shedidn't stop Lollie in time. "Well, I wish you luck and I'll do my bestfor you. " She stopped and kissed the girl. 

"There's one warning I want to give you, Miss White, " said Lollie as shestood in the doorway. "The colonel is a desperate man and I don't thinksomehow that he's coming through this with his life. He's been a goodfriend of mine up to a point and according to his lights, but you'vebeen good and Mr. King has been more than good. Beware of the colonelnow that you have him at bay! That is all!"

Then she was gone. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

A USE FOR OLD FILMS

They brought Pinto Silva into the magistrate's court at Bow Street thefollowing morning in a condition of collapse. The man was dazed by hismisfortune, incapable of answering the questions which were put to him, or even of instructing the exasperated solicitor who had been with himfor an hour. 

By the solicitor's side was a grey-faced, shrunken man, whose clothesdid not seem to fit him and who at the end of the proceedings whisperedsomething into the lawyer's ear. But the application which was made forbail was rejected. The evidence was too damning, and the knowledge thatthe prisoner was not English and that it would be impossible toextradite him if he managed to make his escape to certain countries, allhelped to influence the magistrate in his refusal. 

Colonel Boundary did not speak to the man in the dock or as much as lookat him. He got out of court after the proceedings had terminated, thecynosure of every policeman's eye, and drove back to his apartments. Hehad not heard from Crewe or Lollie that morning and he guessed that thetwo had left by aeroplane. So he was alone, he thought, and the veryknowledge had the effect of stiffening him. 

He could go through the remainder of his papers at his leisure, withoutfear of interruption. The lesser members of the gang had been controlledby Selby or Crewe, and they would not approach him directly, but he didnot doubt that there were a score of little men waiting to jump into thewitness box the moment he was caught, but he had by no means given uphope of escaping. 

For days he had carried in his pocket the means of disguise, a safetyrazor, scissors and a small bottle of anatto solution to darken hisface. 

Despite his sixty-one years, he was a healthy and virile man, capable ofundergoing hardships if the necessity arose, but, above all, he had aplan and an alternative plan. 

He finished the destruction of his correspondence, and then began tosearch his pocket for any stray letters which he might have put awayabsent-mindedly. In making this search he came upon a long, whiteenvelope addressed to Crewe, and wondered how it had come into hispossession. Then he remembered that Crewe had handed him a letter. 

He looked at the postmark. 

From Oxford. 

This was the report of the agents whom Crewe had sent down to discoverthe names of the men who had left Balliol in a certain year. "Snow"Gregory, who had been found shot in the streets of London, was a Balliolman who had left Oxford in that year. It was certain that it was arelative of "Snow" Gregory who was called Jack o' Judgment and who hadtaken upon himself the task of avenging the man's death. 

What was "Snow" Gregory's real name? If he could find that, he mightfind Jack o' Judgment. 

Slowly, as though with a sense that the great discovery was imminent, hetore open the letter and pulled out the three foolscap pages, which, with a covering note, constituted the contents. There were two lists ofnames of graduates who had passed out in the year which, if "Snow"Gregory spoke the truth in a moment of unusual confidence, was the yearof his leaving. 

The colonel's finger traced the lines one by one and he finished thefirst list without discovering a name which was familiar. He was halfway through the second list when he stopped and his finger jumped. Forfully three minutes he sat glaring at the paper open-mouthed. Then:

"Merciful God!" he whispered. 

He sat there for the greater part of an hour, his chin on his hand, hiseyes glued to the name. And all the time his active mind was runningback through the years, piecing together the evidence which enabled himto identify, without any shadow of doubt, Jack o' Judgment. 

He rose and went to his bookcase and took down volume after volume. Theywere mostly reference books, and for some time he searched in vain. Thenhe found a Year Book which gave him the data he wanted, and he broughtit back to the table and scribbled a few notes. These he read throughand carefully burnt. 

He finished his labours with a bright look in his eye and strutted intohis bedroom ten years younger in appearance than he had been thatafternoon. He put out all the lights and sat for a little while in theshadow of the curtain, watching the street from the open window. At thecorner of the block a Salvation Army meeting was in progress, and he wassurprised that he had not noticed the fact, although this practice ofthe Salvationists holding meetings near his flat had before now drivenhim to utter distraction. 

Very keenly he scrutinised the street for some sign of a lurking figure, and once saw a man walk past under the light of a street lamp and meltinto the shadow of a doorway on the opposite side of the road. He wentinto his bedroom and brought back a pair of night glasses, and focusedthem upon the figure. 

He chuckled and went out of the flat into the street, turning southward. 

He did not go far, however, before he stopped and looked back, and hispatience was rewarded by the sight of a figure crossing the road andentering the building he had just left. The colonel gave him time, andthen retraced his steps. He took off his boots in the vestibule and wentupstairs quietly. He was half-way up when he heard the soft thud of hisown door closing, and grinned again. He gave the intruder time to getinside before he too inserted his key, and turning it without a sound, came into the darkened hall. There was a light in his room, and he heardthe sound of a drawer being pulled open. Then he gripped the handle, and, flinging the door open, stepped in. The man who was looking throughthe desk sprang up in affright. 

As Boundary had suspected, it was his former butler, the man who haddeserted him the day before without a word. He was a big, heavy-jowledman of powerful build, and the momentary look of fright melted to a leerat the sight of the colonel's face. 

"Well, Tom, " said Boundary pleasantly, "come back for the pickings?"

"Something like that, guv'nor, " said the other. "You don't blame me?"

"I've been pretty good to you, Tom, " said the colonel. 

"Ugh! I don't know that I've anything to thank you for. "

Here was a man who a month before would have cringed at the colonel'supraised finger!

"Oh, don't you, Tom?" said Boundary softly. "Come, come, that's not verygrateful. "

"What have I got to be grateful to you for?" demanded the man. 

"Grateful that you're alive, Tom, " said the colonel, and the servant'sface went hard. 

"None of that, colonel, " he snarled; "you can't afford to talk 'fresh'with me. I know a great deal more about you than you suppose. You thinkI've got no brains. "

"I know you have brains, Tom, " said the colonel, "but you can't use'em. "

"Can't I, eh? I haven't been looking after you for four or five yearsand doing your dirty work, colonel, without picking up a littleintelligence--and a little information! You'd look comic if they put mein the witness box!"

He was gaining courage at the very mildness of the man of whom he oncestood in terror. 

"So you've come for the pickings?" said the colonel, ignoring histhreat. "Well, help yourself. "

He went to the sideboard, poured himself out a little whisky and satdown by the window to watch the man search. Tom pulled open anotherdrawer and closed it again. 

"Now look here, colonel, " he said, "I haven't made so much money out ofthis business as you have. Things are pretty bad with me, and I thinkthe least you can do is to give me something to remember you by. "

The colonel did not answer. Apparently his thoughts were wandering. 

"Tom, " he said after awhile, "do you remember three months ago I boughta lot of old cinema films?"

"Yes, I remember, " said the man, surprised at the change of subject. "What's that to do with it?"

"There were about ten boxes, weren't there?"

"A dozen, more likely, " said the man impatiently. "Now look here, colonel----"

"Wait a moment, Tom. I'll discuss your share when you've given me alittle help. Meeting you here--by the way, I saw you out of the window, skulking on the other side of the street--has given me an idea. Wheredid you put those films?"

The man grinned. 

"Are you starting a cinema, colonel?"

"Something like that, " replied Boundary; "it was the Salvation Army thatgave me the idea really. Do you hear what an infernal noise that drummakes?"

The man made a gesture of impatience. 

"What is it you want?" he asked. "If you want the films, I put them inmy pantry, underneath the silver cupboard. I suppose, now that thepartnership's broken up, you don't object to me taking the silver? Imight be starting a little house on my own. "

"Certainly, certainly, you can take the silver, " said the colonelgenially. "Bring me the films. "

The man was half-way out of the room when he turned round. 

"No tricks, mind you, " he said, "no doing funny business when my back'sturned. "

"I shall not move from the chair, Tom. You don't seem to trust me. "

The ex-valet made two journeys before he deposited a dozen shallow tinboxes on the desk. 

"There they are, " he said, "now tell me what's the game. "

"First of all, " said the colonel, "were you serious when you suggestedthat you knew something about me that would be worth a lot to thepolice? There goes that drum again, Tom. Do you know what use that drumis to me?"

"I don't know, " growled the man. "Of course I meant what I said--andwhat's this stuff about the drum?"

"Why, the people in the street can hear nothing when that's going, " saidthe colonel softly. 

He put his hand in the inside of his coat, as though searching for apocket-book, and so quick was he that the man, leaning over the table, did not see the weapon that killed him. Three times the colonel firedand the man slid in an inert heap to the ground. 

"Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, Tom, " said the colonel, replacing the weapon; and turning the body over, he took the scarf-pinfrom his own tie and fastened it in that of the dead man. Then he tookhis watch and chain from his pocket and slipped it in the waistcoat ofthe other. He had a signet ring on his little finger and this hetransferred to the finger of the limp figure. 

Then he began opening the boxes of old films and twined their contentsabout the floor, pinning them to the curtains, twining them about thelegs of the chairs, all the time whistling the "Soldiers' Chorus. " Hefound a candle in the butler's pantry and planted it with a steady handin the heap of celluloid coils. This he lighted with great care and wentout, closing the door softly behind him. Half an hour later, AlbemarlePlace was blocked with fire engines and a dozen hoses were playing invain upon the roaring furnace behind the gutted walls of Colonel DanBoundary's residence. 

 * * * * *

Stafford King was an early caller at Doughty Street, and Maisie knew, both by the unusual hour of the visit and by the gravity of the visitor, that something extraordinary had happened. 

"Well, Maisie, " he said, "there's the end of the Boundary Gang--thecolonel is dead. "

"Dead?" she said, open-eyed. 

"We don't know what happened, but the theory is that he shot himself andset light to the house. The body was found in the ruins, and I was ableto identify some of the jewellery--you remember the police had it whenhe was arrested, and we kept a special note of it for future reference. "

She heaved a long sigh. 

"That's over, at last; it is the end of a nightmare, " she said, "ahorrible, horrible nightmare. I wonder----"

"What do you wonder?"

"I wonder if this is also the end of Jack o' Judgment?" she asked. "Orwhether he will continue working to bring to justice those people whomthe law cannot touch. "

"Heaven only knows, " said Stafford, "but I'll admit that Jack o'Judgment has been a most useful person so far as we are concerned. Weshould never have collected Pinto or Selby, or even the colonel, but forJack. By the way, there is no news of Crewe and the girl. "

"I suppose they've reached their destination by now?" she asked. 

"Oh, rather, " said Stafford; "hours and days ago. Where were they going, by the way?"

She shook her head. 

"I'm not going to tell you that. "

"You needn't, " smiled Stafford. "They've gone to Portugal. It wasPinto's machine and I don't suppose he had any other idea in the worldthan to get back to his own beloved land. By the way, Pinto looks likegetting ten years. To satisfy myself in regard to Crewe, I telegraphedto an Englishman at Finisterre, who is a good friend of mine and wholives in a wild and isolated spot somewhere near the lighthouse, and hesent me back a message to the effect that an aeroplane passed overFinisterre yesterday afternoon soon after lunch time. That must befriend Lollie. "

She nodded. 

"Do you know, I hope they get away. Is that rather dreadful of me?" shesaid. 

He shook his head. 

"No, I don't think so. I believe the chief shares your hope. He hasqueer views on things, and they irritate me sometimes. For example, hedoesn't think that the colonel is dead. "

"But I thought you had found the body?"

"He gets over that by saying that it isn't the body, " said Stafford witha little laugh of annoyance. "It rather worries you after you havedecided that you've rounded up the gang. I still believe that it is thecolonel. "

She thought a moment. 

"I am inclined to agree with Sir Stanley, " said she. "It isn't the sortof thing that the colonel would do. Men like Colonel Boundary are neverwithout hope. "

Stafford scratched his head. 

"Well, if it isn't the colonel, he's gone; and please the pigs, we'llnever see him again! There is only the question of rounding up thelittle people of the gang, and that won't be much trouble. "

She put both her hands on his shoulders and looked at him smilingly. 

"You're an optimist, dear, " she said. 

"Who wouldn't be?" he replied cheerfully. "You said that when the gangwas wound up we would drop our sad and lonely lives apart and form alittle gang of our own. "

She laughed and kissed him, and he went back to his office to find thathis chief had already arrived and had asked for him. Sir Stanley wasreading the morning paper when Stafford came into his room, and hisfirst words brought consternation to the younger man. 

"Stafford, " he said, "this is not the body of the colonel. I've justbeen to see it and I'm certain. Now, you've got to send a call out toall stations throughout the country, particularly the south of England, to look for a man, possibly clean-shaven, certainly without moustaches, who will be disguised as a tramp. "

"Why a tramp, sir?" asked Stafford with an heroic attempt to preserve anopen mind on a subject where he had reached a definite decision. 

"Fifteen years ago, " replied Sir Stanley, "when the colonel did most ofhis own dirty work, it was his favourite disguise. Search the casualwards, the common lodging-houses and the prisons. It is just likely thatthe colonel will commit a small offence, with the object of gettinghimself three months in gaol--there's no hiding-place like gaol, youknow, Stafford. The real danger is that he may not actually tramp orassume the guise of the real low-down loafer. He may have the sense tobecome a poor but honest workman, travelling third-class from town totown in search of work. Then he will present the greatest difficulty. "He saw the look of doubt on the young man's face and laughed. 

"You think he's dead, don't you?" he said. 

"I'm perfectly sure he is, sir, " replied Stafford frankly. 

"An optimist to the last, " smiled Sir Stanley and dismissed him with anod. 

Later he was to come to Stafford's little bureau and tell him thingswhich he did not know before. Then for the first time Stafford Kingdiscovered how closely his lackadaisical chief had followed thedevelopments of the past few months. He learnt for the first time of thebig part which Jack o' Judgment had played in the detection of the gang. 

"He had an office under the colonel's flat, " said Sir Stanley. "Apparently it was bought with no other object than to provide ourfriend with an opportunity of spying on the colonel. He discoloured thewall, brought in his own workmen and in the colonel's absence--he wasdriven from the occupation of the room by the smell--he installedmicrophones. With the aid of these he was able to listen to all theconversation downstairs and sometimes to chime in. It was Jack o'Judgment who--well, perhaps I'd better not tell you that, becauseofficially, I am not supposed to know it. At any rate, Stafford, " hesaid more seriously, "we have seen the smashing of one of the mostiniquitous, villainous gangs that ever existed. God knows how manybroken hearts there are in England to-day, how many poor souls who havebeen brought to a suicide's grave through the machinations of ColonelBoundary and his tools. I do not think there has been a more immoralforce in existence in our time, and I hope we shall never see its likeagain. You sent out the message?" he asked at parting. 

"Yes, sir. I warned all stations and all chief constables. "

"Good!" said Sir Stanley, and his last words were: "Don'tforget--Boundary is not dead!"

CHAPTER XXXIX

JACK O' JUDGMENT REVEALED

A stoutish, grey-haired man descended from a third-class carriage atChatham Station and inquired of a porter the way to the dockyard. Hecarried a lot of carpenter's tools in a straw bag and smoked a shortclay pipe. The porter looked at the man with his white, stubby beardcritically. 

"Trying to get a job, mate?" he asked. 

"Why, yes, " said the man. 

"How old might you be?" demanded the porter. 

"Sixty-four, " said the other, and the porter shook his head. 

"You won't get work easy. They're not very keen on us old 'uns, " hesaid. "Why don't you try at Markham's, the builders in the High Street?They're short of men. I saw a notice outside their yard only thismorning. "

The workman thanked the porter, shouldered his basket and tramped downthe High Street. He was respectably dressed, and policemen on thelook-out for suspicious tramps did not give him a second glance. Hespent the greater part of the day walking from yard to yard, everywherereceiving the same answer. Late in the afternoon he had better luck. Asmall firm of ship repairers were in want of a jobbing carpenter and puthim to work at once. 

It was many years since Colonel Boundary had wielded a saw, but he madea good showing. After two hours' work, however, his back was aching andhis hands were sore. He was glad when the yard bell announced the hourfor knocking off. He had yet to find lodgings, but this did not worryhim. He was careful to avoid the cheaper kind of lodging-house, and wentto one which catered for the artisan, where he could get a room of hisown and a clean bed. He paid a deposit, washed himself and left histools, then went out in search of some refreshment. 

At seven o'clock the next morning he was back at the yard. He thoughtseveral times during the day that he would have to throw the work up. His back ached furiously, his arms were like lead. But he persevered, and again another day drew to a close. By the third day he had got hismuscles into play and found the work easy. He was asked by the foremanif he would care to go into the country to work at a house that the headof the firm was building, but he declined. He wanted to remain in thetown where there were crowds. At the end of the week came his greatchance. He had been sent down to the docks to do some repairs on a smallsteamer and had pleased the skipper, who was himself an elderly man, bythe ability he had shown. 

"You're worth twice as much as some of these darned young 'uns, "grumbled the old man. "Are you married?"

"No, " said the other. 

"Got any kids?"

Boundary shook his head. 

"Why don't you sign on with me?" asked the skipper. "I want a carpenterbad. "

"Where are you going?" asked Boundary, breathing more quickly. 

"We're going to Valparaiso first, then we're going to work down thecoast, round the Horn to San Francisco and maybe we'll get a cargoacross to China. "

"I'll think it over, " said the colonel. 

That night he called on the captain and told him that he had made up hismind to go. 

"Good!" said the skipper, "but you'll have to sign on to-night. I'mleaving to-morrow by the first tide. "

The colonel nodded, not daring to speak. Here was luck, the greatest inthe world. Nobody would suspect a carpenter, taken from a local firm andshipped with the captain's goodwill. At seven o'clock the next morninghe was standing on the deck of the _Arabelle Sands_, watching the lowcoast-line slipping past. The ship was to make one call at Falmouth andtwo days later she reached that port. Boundary went ashore to buy somewood and a few tools that he found he needed, and pulled back to theship in the afternoon. In the evening he accompanied the captain ashore. 

"We shan't leave till to-morrow at twelve, " said the captain. "You mightas well spend a night on solid earth whilst you can. It will be a longtime before you smell dirt again. "

The captain's idea of a pleasant evening was to sit in the bar-parlourof the Sun Inn and drink interminable hot rums. He had fixed up a roomfor himself at the inn and offered Boundary a share, but the colonelpreferred to sleep alone. He secured lodgings in the town, and making anexcuse to the captain returned to his room early. He had purchased allthe newspapers he could find and he wanted to study them quietly. It waswith unusual relish that he read the account of an inquest on himself. There was no breath of suspicion that he was not dead. 

"Old Dan Boundary has tricked them all. Clever old Dan Boundary!"

He chuckled at the thought. He had deceived all those clever men atScotland Yard--Sir Stanley Belcom, Stafford King, Jack o' Judgment! Yes, he had deceived Jack o' Judgment and that seemed the least believablepart of the affair. All the rest of the gang were captured or fugitives. He wondered whether Lollie Marsh and Crewe had reached Portugal and whatthey were doing there and how long their money would last and how theywould earn more. He had his own money well secured. He had managed toget together quite a respectable sum, for there were other banks thanthe Victoria and City--odd accounts in assumed names which he had drawnupon on the very day of his supposed death. 

There was a tap at the door. 

"Come in, " said Boundary, thinking it was the landlady. 

He was in the middle of the room as he spoke, and he went back step bystep as the visitor entered. His tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, his eyes were starting out of his head. 

"You! You!" he croaked. 

"Little Jack o' Judgment, " said the mask mockingly. "Poor old Jack! Cometo take farewell of the colonel before he goes to foreign parts!"

"Stop!" cried Boundary hoarsely. "I know you, damn you! I know you!"

He pulled back the curtains and glared out of the window. There was noneed to ask any further questions. The house was surrounded. He swunground again at his tormentor and faced the white mask in a blind fury ofrage. 

"You're clever, aren't you?" he said. "Cleverer than all the police! Butyou weren't clever enough to save your son from death!"

The masked figure reeled back. 

"Ah, that's got you! Little Jack o' Judgment!" mocked the colonel. "That's got you where it hurts you most, hasn't it? Your only son, too!And he went to the devil all the faster because of me--me--me!" Hestruck his breast with his clenched fist. "You can't bring him back tolife, can you? That's one I've got against you. "

"No, " said Jack o' Judgment in a low voice. "I cannot bring him back tolife, but I can destroy the man who destroyed him, who blighted hisyoung life, who taught him vicious practices, who sapped his vitalitywith drugs----"

"That's a lie!" said the colonel. "Crewe picked him up at Monte Carlo, when he was on his beam-ends. "

"Who sent him to Monte Carlo?" asked the other. "Who was the gambler whobrought him down, and received the wreck he had made with the pretencethat he had never met him before? It was you, Boundary?"

The colonel nodded. 

"I was a fool to deny it. I pretended to Crewe that I hadn't met himbefore. Yes, it was I, and I glory in it. You think you're going topinch me, now, and put me where I belong--on the scaffold maybe. But youcan never wipe that memory out of your mind, that you had a son who diedin the gutter, that you're a childless old man who has no son to followyou!"

"I can't wipe that out!" said Jack o' Judgment. "O, God! I can't wipethat out!"

He raised his hand to his masked face as though to hide the picturewhich Boundary conjured up. 

"But I can wipe you out, " he said fiercely, "and I've given my life, mycareer, my reputation, all that I hold dear to get you! I've smashedyour schemes, I've ruined you, even if I've ruined myself. They'rewaiting for you downstairs, Boundary. I told them to be here at thisvery minute. Stafford King----"

"You'll never see me taken, " said Boundary. 

Two shots rang out together, and the colonel sprawled back over thebed--dead. 

Propped against the wall was Jack o' Judgment, and the hand that grippedhis breast dripped red. They heard the shots outside and Stafford Kingwas the first to enter the room. One glance at the colonel wassufficient, and then he turned to the figure who had slipped to thefloor and was sitting with his back propped against the wall. 

"Good God!" said Stafford. "Jack o' Judgment!"

"Poor old Jack!" said the mocking voice. 

Stafford's arm was about his shoulder, and he laid the head gently backupon his bent knee. He lifted the mask gently and the light of the oillamp which swung from the ceiling fell upon the white face. 

"Sir Stanley Belcom! Sir Stanley!" he softly whispered. 

Sir Stanley turned his head and opened his eyes. The old look ofgood-humour shone. 

"Poor old Jack o' Judgment!" he mimicked. "This is going to be afirst-class scandal, Stafford. For the sake of the service you ought tohush it up. "

"But nobody need know, sir, " said Stafford. "You can explain to theHome Secretary----"

Sir Stanley shook his head. 

"I'm going to see a greater Home Secretary than ever lived inWhitehall, " he said slowly. "I'm finished, Stafford. Strip this mummeryfrom me, if you can. "

With shaking hands Stafford King tore off the black cloak and flung itunder the bed. 

"Now, " said Sir Stanley weakly, "you can introduce me to the provincialpolice as the head of our department and you can keep my secret, Stafford--if you will. "

Stafford laid his hand upon Sir Stanley's. 

"I told my solicitor, " Sir Stanley spoke with difficulty, "to give you aletter in case--in case anything happened. I know I haven't played thegame by the department. I ought to have resigned years ago when I foundwhat had happened to my poor boy. I was Chief of Police in one of theprovinces of India at the time, but they wouldn't let me go. I came toScotland Yard and was promoted--no, I haven't played the game with thedepartment. And yet perhaps I have. "

He did not speak for some time. 

His breathing was growing fainter and fainter, and when Stafford askedhim, he said he was in no pain. 

"I had to deceive you, " he said after awhile. "I had to pretend thatJack o' Judgment called on me too. That was to take suspicion fromyour--Miss White, " he smiled. "No, I haven't played the game. I stoodfor the law, and yet--I broke that gang, which the law could not touch. Yes, I broke them! I broke them!" he whispered. "If Boundary hadn'tknown me I should have been gone before you came and resignedto-morrow, " he said, "but he must have discovered the boy's name. Iwonder he hadn't tried before. I smashed them, didn't I, Stafford? Itcost me thousands. I have committed almost every kind of crime--Iburgled the diamondsmiths', but you must give me your word you willnever tell. Phillopolis must suffer. They must all be punished. "

Stafford had sent the police from the room, but the police-surgeonwould not be denied. He had the sense to see that nothing could be donefor the dying man, however, and that a change of position would probablyhasten the end. He, too, went and left them alone. 

"Stafford, I have quite a lot of money, " said the First Commissioner;"it is yours. There's a will ... Yours.... "

Then he ceased to speak and Stafford thought that the end had come butdid not dare move in case he were mistaken. After five minutes the manin his arms stirred slightly and his voice sounded strangely clear andstrong. 

"Gregory, my boy, good old Gregory! Father's here, old man!"

His voice died away to a rumble and then to a murmur. 

The tears were running down Stafford's face. He sensed all the tragedy, all the loneliness of this man who had offered so cheerful a face to theworld. Then Sir Stanley struggled to draw himself to his feet, andStafford held him. 

"Gently, sir, gently, " he said, "you're only hurting yourself. "

The dying man laughed. It was a little shrill chuckle of merriment andStafford's blood ran cold. 

"Here I am, poor old Jack o' Judgment! Little old Jack o' Judgment! Giveme the lives you took and the hopes you've blasted. Give them to Jack... Jack o' Judgment!"

They were his last words. 

 * * * * *

A year later First Commissioner Sir Stafford King received a letter fromSouth America. It contained nothing but the photograph of a verygood-looking man, and a singularly pretty woman, who held in her lap avery tiny baby. 

"Here is the last of the Boundary Gang, " said Sir Stafford to Maisie. "It is the one happy ending that has emerged from so much misery andevil. "

"Why, it is Lollie Marsh!"

"Lollie Crewe, I think her name is now, " said Stafford. "It was queerhow Sir Stanley recognised the only human members of the gang. "

"Then they got away after all?" said the girl. "I've often wondered whathappened at that aerodrome. "

Stafford laughed. 

"Oh, yes, " he said drily, "they got away. They left at twenty minutespast three, after a long argument with the aviator, a man namedCartwright. "

"How do you know?" she asked. 

"Sir Stanley and I watched them go off, " said Stafford. 

He looked at the photograph again and shook his head. 

"There were times when the Judgment of Jack was very merciful, " he saidsoberly. 

THE END

_WARD, LOCK & CO. 'S NEW FICTION_

Blindfolded

By

Dorothy Rogers

This novel has remarkable qualities. Its plot is strong and holds adramatic surprise of tragic intensity. The book tells the story of AnneGerrish, how she is stifled by the humdrum life at Norton with heraunts, how she leaves them to wring from life a measure of individualfreedom and happiness, and how she finds both, only to end once morewhere she began. To use a metaphor from music, her life is a piecemarked "Da capo. " BLINDFOLDED is by far the best novel Miss Rogers hasyet written, a book full of truth and sincerity. 

_Other Stories by this Author:_

If To-day be SweetThe Standby

 "A novel of considerable charm, dramatic interest, and admirable character delineation. "

_WARD, LOCK & CO. 'S NEW FICTION_

X Esquire

By

Leslie Charteris

A new form of tobacco had been discovered and was being put on themarket by a syndicate consisting of rather dubious characters. Thecampaign was to start with a free distribution of millions of packets ofcigarettes made from the new leaf. But the whole consignment of thetobacco was burnt, and one by one the members of the projected syndicatewere assassinated by a mysterious person who called himself "X Esquire. "Who was he? And what was his purpose? Mr. Charteris shows himself inthis story to be one of the real brand of mystery novelists. 

 The Author can write a rattling good yarn, full of excitement and real mystery. Thoroughly brisk in action, the story is told in a virile and spirited manner. 

_WARD, LOCK & CO. 'S NEW FICTION_

The Tenant of Cromlech Cottage

By

Joseph Hocking

Ghost stories move almost inevitably to one of two dénouements--amaterialistic explanation or a supernatural. THE TENANT OF CROMLECHCOTTAGE has a surprise for the reader in that the physical explanationof the noises and movements that have disturbed the novelist owner ofthe haunted cottage--that these were occasioned by the nocturnal visitsof two orphans who believed that a will was hidden there--was followedby the appearance of a dead man to tell the novelist where this missingwill might be found. This dualism is typical of Joseph Hocking's Cornishstories where romance and realism make a blend as fascinating as it isunique. 

 There are few better story-tellers than Mr. Joseph Hocking, especially when he is dealing with his beloved Cornwall. His stories are thrillingly interesting, and rivet the attention of the reader from beginning to end. 

_WARD, LOCK & CO. 'S NEW FICTION_

The Knightsbridge Mystery

By

Carlton Dawe

The conclusion of this story has a real grip, and the solution of themystery concerning the death of the girl victim of an unknown hand is atonce original and instinct with a true human pathos. The character ofthe detective who investigates the case is one of the triumphs of thebook, and he is no stereotyped member of the Criminal InvestigationDepartment but a living personality as well as a convincing policeofficer. Mr. Carlton Dawe has written in THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE MYSTERY oneof his best and most sympathetic stories. 

_Other recent successes by this Author:_

The Temptation of SelmaDesperate LoveA Tangled MarriageEuryale in LondonStranger than FictionThe Way of a MaidLove the ConquerorThe GlareThe Forbidden Shrine

 "For a certain crispness of dialogue, and deft arrangement of the events of a good plot, Mr. Carlton Dawe has very few rivals. "--_The Yorkshire Post. _