reputation. He
could afford to smile at them. But he feared that there was something
internal of a sufficiently serious nature. Every time he moved he
suffered exquisite agony. He smiled in a faint kind of way. Bell watched
him as a cat watches a mouse. And he could read a deeper purpose behind
that soft, caressing manner. What it was he did not know, but he meant to
find out before the day was passed.

"Hadn't we better send him to the hospital?" David suggested.

"What for?" was Bell's brutal response. "There's nothing whatever the
matter with the man."

"But he has every appearance of great pain."

"To you, perhaps, but not to me. The man is shamming. He has come here
for some purpose, which will be pretty sure to transpire presently. The
knave never dreams that we are watching him, and he hugs himself with the
delusion that we take his story for gospel. Fancy a man in the state that
he pretends to be in sending his card to you! Let him stay where we can
keep an eye upon the chap. So long as he is under our observation he
can't do any mischief outside."

There was wisdom in what Bell suggested, and David agreed. Despite his
injuries, Henson made a fair tea, and his dinner, partaken of on the
dining-room sofa, was an excellent one.

"And now, do not let me detain you, as you have business," he smiled. "I
shall be quite comfortable here if you will place a glass of water by my
side. The pain makes me thirsty. No, you need not have any further
consideration for me."

He smiled with patient resignation, the smile that he had found so
effective on platforms. He lay back with his eyes half closed. He seemed
to be asleep.

"I fancy we can leave him now," Bell said, with deep sarcasm. "We need
have no further anxiety. Perfect rest is all that he requires."

Henson nodded in a sleepy fashion; his eyes were closed now till the
others had left the room. Once he was alone he was alert and
vigorous again.

"Ten minutes," he muttered, "say, a quarter of an hour. A touch, a spot
of water, and the thing is done. And I can never be found out."

CHAPTER LII

PUTTING THE LIGHT OUT

Once the trio were in the operating-room Bell gave one rapid glance at
Heritage. But the latter seemed to have forgotten all his fears. There
was an alert air about him; he was quiet and steady. There was something
of the joy of battle in his eyes.

"Now go and fetch Van Sneck in," Bell said.

The patient came at length. Everythi