."

"Oh, yes we are. Let us admit that quarrel. I am certain of it because
yesterday Mr. Richford had luncheon at the same table as myself. He
ordered a steak and potatoes. When it came, he asked the waiter who had
been putting salt on his plate. Sure enough there _was_ salt on the
plate _and in the shape of a bullet_. Directly Richford saw that, his
whole aspect changed. He was like one beside himself with terror. He did
not know that I was watching him, he knew nothing beyond the horror of
the moment."

"You mean that shaped salt had some hidden meaning, sir?" Field asked.

"I am certain of it. Now don't run your head up against the idea that
you are on the track of some political society, or that Anarchism has
anything to do with it. It so happens that I have seen that salt sign
before in India under strange circumstances that we need not go into at
the present moment. The man who pointed it out to me disappeared and was
never heard of again. The sign was in his own plate at dinner. A little
later I was enabled to get to the bottom of the whole thing; the story
shall be told you in due course.

"Well, I wanted to see what Mr. Richford would do next. Was the sign an
imperative one or not? Evidently it was, for he got up, finished his
brandy, and left the table without having had a single mouthful of food.
Under ordinary conditions I should have taken no action, but you see
Mrs. Richford is a great friend of mine, and I was anxious to see how
far her husband was in with these people. To make a long story short, I
followed Richford's cab and traced him to No. 100, Audley Place, which
is somewhat at the back of Wandsworth Common. There I was so fortunate
as to find a policeman who had been in my regiment, and he gave me all
the information he could as to the inhabitants of the house. The gist of
that information was that the owner of the house was a lame gentleman
who sometimes went out in a bath chair. _Now_ you do see why I cried out
when the cabman finished his story to-day?"

Field nodded thoughtfully. He saw perfectly well. For a little time he
was silent, piecing the puzzle together. On the whole he was more than
satisfied with the morning's work.

"I see," he said at length. "The lame gentleman, of course, sent the
message to Mr. Richford. Within a few hours the body of Sir Charles
disappears. Why, then, was this message sent? So that the lame man could
get posted in all his facts with a view to stealing the