d.

"Don't ask questions," Enid cried. "Go and get me the champagne nippers.
The champagne nippers at once. If you can't find them, then bring me a
pair of pliers. Then come to me on the leads outside the bathroom. It's a
matter of life and death."

CHAPTER XXI

A FIND

David did not appear in the least surprised; indeed, he was long since
past that emotion. Before the bottom of the mystery was reached a great
many more strange things were pretty sure to happen.

"So you bought that cigar-case yourself?" he said.

"Indeed, I did," Ruth answered, eagerly. "Of course I have long known
you by name and I have read pretty well all your tales. I--I liked your
work so much."

David was flattered. The shy, sweet admiration in Ruth's eyes
touched him.

"And I was very glad to meet you," Ruth went on. "You see, we all liked
your stories. And we knew one or two people who had met you, and
gradually you became quite like a friend of ours--Enid and Chris and
myself, you understand. Then a week or two ago I came down to Brighton
with my uncle to settle all about taking the house here. And I happened
to be in Lockhart's buying something when you came in and asked to see
the cigar-case. I recognised you from your photographs, and I was
interested. Of course, I thought no more of it at the time, until Enid
came up to London and told me all about the synopsis, and how strangely
the heroine's case in your proposed story was like hers. Enid wondered
how you were going to get the girl out of her difficulty, and I jokingly
suggested that she had better ask you. She accepted the idea quite
seriously, saying that if you had a real, plausible way out of the
trouble you might help her. And gradually our scheme was evolved. You
were not to know, because of the possible danger to yourself."

"At the hands of Reginald Henson, of course?"

"Yes. Our scheme took a long time, but we got it worked out at last. We
decided on the telephone because we thought that we could not be traced
that way, never imagining for a moment that you could get the number of
your caller over the trunk line. Enid came up to town, and worked the
telephone, Chris was in No. 218, and I brought the money."

"You placed that cigar-case on my doorstep?"

"Yes, I was wound up for anything. It was I whom you saw riding the
bicycle through Old Steine; it was I who dropped the card of
instructions. It seems a shameful thing to say and to do now, but
I--well, I