wonder what Reginald Henson would say if
he only knew that I had been to the hospital and recognised our mutual
friend Van Sneck there!"

CHAPTER XXIII

INDISCRETION

The expression on Henson's usually benign countenance would have startled
such of his friends and admirers as regarded him as a shining light and
great example. The smug satisfaction, the unctuous sweetness of the
expansive blue eyes were gone; a murderous gleam shone there instead. His
lips were set and rigid, the strong hand seemed to be strangling the
bedclothes. It wanted no effort of imagination to picture Henson as the
murderer stooping over his prey. The man had discarded his mask
altogether.

"Oh," he said, between his teeth, "you are a clever fellow. You would
have made an excellent detective. And so you have found out where Van
Sneck is?"

"I have already told you so," Littimer said, doggedly.

"How many days have you been hanging about Brighton?"

"Two or three. I came when I heard that Chris was ill. I didn't dare to
come near the house, at least not too near, for fear of being seen. But I
pumped the doctor. Then he told me that Chris was dead, and I risked it
all to see the last of her."

"Yes, yes," Henson said, testily; "but what has this to do with
Van Sneck?"

"I was looking for Van Sneck. I found that he had been here. I discovered
that he had left his rooms and had not returned to them. Then it occurred
to me to try the hospital. I pretended that I was in search of some
missing relative, and they showed me three cases of bad accidents, the
victims of which had not been identified. And the third was Van Sneck."

Littimer told his story with just the suggestion of triumph in his voice.
Henson was watching him with the keenest possible interest.

"Do you know how Van Sneck got there?" he asked.

Littimer nodded. Evidently he had heard most of the story. Henson was
silent for some little time. He was working out something in his mind.
His smile was not a pleasant one; it was nothing like his bland platform
smile, for instance.

"Give me that black book," he said. "Do you know how to work the
telephone?"

"I daresay I could learn. It doesn't look hard."

"Well, that is an extension telephone on the table yonder worked in
connection with the main instrument in the library. I like to have my own
telephone, as it is of the greatest assistance to me. Turn that handle
two or three times and put that receiver to your ea