ot a smoker, so I haven't any in my pocket."

"Nor I," said Muller calmly, letting his hand close protectingly over a
new full box of them in his own pocket.

"I'll get you some from my own room," and Franz hurried away, his loose
slippers clattering down the stairs. He was no sooner well out of the
room than Muller had the letter in his hand and was standing close by
the window to catch the fading light. But on the old servant's return
the supposed electrician stood calmly awaiting the coming of the light,
and the letter was back on the table half hidden by a piece of linen.
Franz did not notice that the envelope was missing. And the housekeeper,
whose mind was so upset by the events of the day, and whose thoughts
were on other more absorbing matters, would hardly be likely to remember
whether she had returned this quite unimportant letter to its envelope
or not.

Franz brought a lighted candle with him, and Muller, who really did
possess a creditable knowledge of electricity, saw that the wires in
the room were all in good condition. As he had seen at first, there was
really nothing the matter except with the position of the button. But it
did not suit his purpose to enlighten Franz on the matter just yet.

"Now I'd better look at the wires in the gentleman's room," he said,
when he had returned plate and button to their place.

"Just as you say," replied Franz, taking up his candle and leading the
way out into the hail and down the winding stair. They crossed the lower
corridor, mounted another staircase and entered a large, handsomely
furnished room, half studio, half library. The wall was covered with
pictures and sketches, several easels stood piled up in the corner, and
a broad table beside them held paint boxes, colour tubes, brushes, all
the paraphernalia of the painter, now carefully ordered and covered for
a term of idleness. Great bookcases towered to the ceiling, and a huge
flat top desk, a costly piece of furniture, was covered with books and
papers. It was the room of a man of brains and breeding, a man of talent
and ability, possessing, furthermore, the means to indulge his tastes
freely. Even now, with its master absent, the handsome apartment bore
the impress of his personality. The detective's quick imagination called
up the attractive, sympathetic figure of the man he had seen at the
gate, as his quick eye took in the details of the room. All the charm of
Herbert Thorne's personality, which the k