ushed, and her
eyes glittering. Every one at the table was talking a great deal and
drinking toasts.

"This is the end of Fluffy Dean," Violet Brown said, severely. "I hate
to be uncharitable, but it serves her right."

Peter Ruff paid his bill.

"Let us go," he said.

In the taxicab, on their way back to Miss Brown's rooms, Ruff was
unusually silent, but just before he said good night to her--on the
pavement, in fact, outside her front door--he asked a question.

"Violet," he said, "would you like to play detective for an hour or
two?"

She looked at him in some surprise.

"You know I always like to help in anything that's going," she said.

"Letty Shaw was an Australian, wasn't she?" he asked.

"Yes."

"She was born there, and lived there till she was nearly eighteen--is
that true?" he asked again.

"Quite true," Miss Brown answered.

"You know the offices of the P.& O. line of steamers in Pall Mall?" he
asked.

She nodded.

"Well?"

"Get a sailing list to Australia--there should be a boat going Thursday.
Present yourself as a prospective passenger. See how many young women
alone there are going out, and ask their names. Incidentally put in a
little spare time watching the office."

She looked at him with parted lips and wide-open eyes.

"Do you think--" she began.

He shook her hand warmly and stepped back into the taxicab.

"Good night!" he said. "No questions, please. I sha'n't expect you at
the office at the usual time to-morrow, at any rate. Telephone or run
around if you've anything to tell me."

The taxicab disappeared round the corner of the street. Miss Brown was
standing still upon the pavement with the latchkey in her hand.

*****

It was afternoon before the inquest on the body of Austen Abbott, and
there was gathered together in Letty Shaw's parlor a curiously assorted
little group of people. There was Miss Shaw herself--or rather what
seemed to be the ghost of herself--and her mother; Lady Mary and Sir
William Trencham; Peter Ruff and Violet Brown--and Mr. John Dory. The
eyes of all of them were fixed upon Peter Ruff, who was the latest
arrival. He stood in the middle of the room, calmly taking off his
gloves, and glancing complacently down at his well-creased trousers.

"Lady Mary," he said, "and Miss Shaw, I know that you are both anxious
for me to explain why I ask you to meet me here this afternoon, and why
I also requested my friend Mr. Dory from Scotland Yard, wh