know. I'm not certain when I shall return. I may go
away for a bit."

The door closed behind Lady Underhill. Derek sat down again at the
writing-table. He wrote a few words on a sheet of paper, then tore it
up. His eye travelled to the mantelpiece. Jill's photograph smiled
happily down at him. He turned back to the writing-table, took out a
fresh piece of paper, thought for a few moments, and began to write
again.

The door opened softly.

"The cab is at the door, Sir Derek," said Barker.

Derek addressed an envelope, and got up.

"All right. Thanks. Oh, Barker, stop at a district-messenger office on
your way to the police-station, and have this sent off at once."

"Very good, Sir Derek," said Barker.

Derek's eyes turned once more to the mantelpiece. He stood looking for
an instant, then walked quickly out of the room.

CHAPTER VI

UNCLE CHRIS BANGS THE TABLE

I

A taxi-cab stopped at the door of Number Twenty-two, Ovingdon Square.
Freddie Rooke emerged, followed by Jill. While Freddie paid the
driver, Jill sniffed the afternoon air happily. It had turned into a
delightful day. A westerly breeze, springing up in the morning, had
sent the thermometer up with a run and broken the cold spell which had
been gripping London. It was one of those afternoons which intrude on
the bleakness of winter with a false but none the less agreeable
intimation that Spring is on its way. The sidewalks were wet
underfoot, and the gutters ran with thawed snow. The sun shone
exhilaratingly from a sky the colour of a hedge-sparrow's egg.

"Doesn't everything smell lovely, Freddie," said Jill, "after our
prison-life!"

"Topping!"

"Fancy getting out so quickly! Whenever I'm arrested, I must always
make a point of having a rich man with me. I shall never tease you
about that fifty-pound note again."

"Fifty-pound note?"

"It certainly came in handy to-day!"

She was opening the door with her latch-key, and missed the sudden
sagging of Freddie's jaw, the sudden clutch at his breast-pocket, and
the look of horror and anguish that started into his eyes. Freddie was
appalled. Finding himself at the police-station penniless with the
exception of a little loose change, he had sent that message to Derek,
imploring assistance, as the only alternative to spending the night in
a cell, with Jill in another. He had realized that there was a risk of
Derek taking the matter hardly, and he had not wanted to get Jill into
troub