as
fired. Well, I'll wait. As yet I cannot get a warrant, having nothing
but theory to go on. But the nets are being spread, and unless
Maraquito and her friends clear out with Mrs. Herne, they will be
caught. When they are all in jail there may be some chance of learning
who murdered that unfortunate woman in Rose Cottage."

Later on, Jennings received the report of the inquest, which appeared
also that evening in the newspapers. It seemed that Tyke had been
poisoned with arsenic, administered in the whisky bottle. From his
appearance he was a hard drinker, and doubtless the boy had no
difficulty in inducing him to drink. Tyke had drank freely--indeed the
doctor said he had taken enough to kill three men,--and therefore he
had died almost immediately the boy left, and before he had time to
speak. The inspector, who wrote to Jennings, stated that the constable
who had admitted the boy had been dismissed the force, but the boy
himself could not be traced. "I shouldn't be surprised if he had taken
refuge in the cellars of the house," said Jennings, "that is, if the
factory is there. I must see Caranby and get his permission to remove
the rubbish. Only when I have searched the foundation of that house,
will my suspicions be set at rest."

Unexpected aid came to help him in this quarter, as Caranby sent a
note, stating that the rubbish and debris of the fire would be removed
next week, and inviting Jennings to be present. Caranby added that
Mallow had resumed his visits to the "Shrine of the Muses," but that
Mrs. Octagon still continued hostile. Basil, however, was more
friendly. "I daresay," commented Jennings, on reading this last
sentence, "he has his own axe to grind over that money."

It was about this time that the detective received a visit from Susan
Grant. She looked as neat and timid as usual, and appeared at his
rooms one morning with a request for an interview. "I said I would
help Mr. Mallow if I could," she said when seated.

"Oh, and have you anything likely to help him,-"

"Not exactly," said Susan, "but I found some old papers of father's."

"I don't quite understand," said the detective, who did not see what
the girl's father had to do in the matter.

"Well, it's this way, sir. Father was poisoned five years ago."

"Who poisoned him?"

"That we never knew," explained Susan. "Father's name was Maxwell, but
when mother married Mr. Grant she made me take that name. It was
supposed th