its sinister purpose, to
be left implanted in the breast or brain of an enemy's lifeless body.
Where is the man now? In London, perhaps outside this building, perhaps
watching the Northumberland Avenue Hotel, waiting quietly for another
chance to take the life of the person who caused us to reopen this
inquiry. To sum up, Winter, let us find such an individual, a Hume-Frazer
with black, deadly eyes, with a cold, calculating, remorseless brain, with
a knowledge of trick and fence not generally an attribute of the
Anglo-Saxon race--let us lay hands on him, I say, and you can book him for
kingdom come, _via_ the Old Bailey."

"Yes, sir!" broke in Winter excitedly. "But the motive!"

"Et tu, Brute! Would the disciple rend his master? Have I not told you
that Capella will bring that knowledge with him from Naples? I have hopes
even of your long-nosed friend, Holden, giving us all the details we
need."

"What did the murderer steal from Sir Alan's writing-desk, from the drawer
broken open before the blow was struck?"

Smith entered, bearing a chicken.

"The motive, Winter! The motive!" laughed Brett, and in pursuance of his
invariable practice, he refused to say another word about the crime or its
perpetrator during the meal.

CHAPTER XXII

THE SECOND ATTACK

Mrs. Smith was accustomed to her master's occasional freaks in the matter
of dinner. Her husband, aided by long experience, knew whether Brett's
"immediately" meant one minute, or five, or even fifteen.

This time he gave his wife the longest limit, so, in addition to the
chicken, a bird whose unhappy attribute is a facility for being devoured
with the utmost speed, a mixed grill of cutlets, bacon, and French
sausages appeared on the table.

The diners were hungry and the good things were appreciated. It was well
that they wasted no time on mere words. They were still intent on the
feast when a boy messenger brought a note. It was from Helen, written in
pencil:

"David was coming to see you when he was attacked. Can you come to
us at once?

"H.L.

"P.S.--David is all right--only shaken and covered with mud. It
occurred five minutes ago."

"Dear me!" said Brett. "Dear me!"

There was such a hiss of concentrated fury in his voice that Winter was
puzzled to account for the harmless expression the barrister had twice
used. The detective knew that his distinguished friend never, by any
chance, indulged in strong language, yet