the whole affair--every
path we take leads to her."

"I know hardly anything about her," replied Kilsip, "except that she
was a good-looking woman, of about forty-nine--she come out from
England to Sydney a few months ago, then on here--how she got to Mother
Guttersnipe's I can't find out, though I've tried to pump that old
woman, but she's as close as wax, and it's my belief she knows more
about this dead woman than she chooses to tell."

"But what could she have told Fitzgerald to make him act in this silly
manner? A stranger who comes from England, and dies in a Melbourne
slum, can't possibly know anything about Miss Frettlby."

"Not unless Miss Frettlby was secretly married to Whyte," suggested
Kilsip, "and the 'Queen' knew it."

"Nonsense," retorted Calton, sharply. "Why, she hated him and loves
Fitzgerald; besides, why on earth should she marry secretly, and make a
confidant of a woman in one of the lowest parts of Melbourne? At one
time her father wanted her to marry Whyte, but she made such strong
opposition, that he eventually gave his consent to her engagement with
Fitzgerald."

"And Whyte?"

"Oh, he had a row with Mr. Frettlby, and left the house in a rage. He
was murdered the same night, for the sake of some papers he carried."

"Oh, that's Gorby's idea," said Kilsip, scornfully, with a vicious
snarl.

"And it's mine too," answered Calton, firmly. "Whyte had some valuable
papers, which he always carried about with him. The woman who died
evidently told Fitzgerald that he did so; I gathered as much from an
accidental admission he made."

Kilsip looked puzzled.

"I must confess that it is a riddle," he said at length; "but if Mr.
Fitzgerald would only speak, it would clear everything up."

"Speak about what--the man who murdered Whyte?"

"Well, if he did not go quite so far as that he might at least supply
the motive for the crime."

"Perhaps so," answered Calton, as the detective rose to go; "but it's
no use. Fitzgerald for some reason or another, has evidently made up
his mind not to speak, so our only hope in saving him lies in finding
this girl."

"If she's anywhere in Australia you may be sure she'll be found,"
answered Kilsip, confidently, as he took his departure. "Australia
isn't so over-crowded as all that."

But if Sal Rawlins was in Australia at all she certainly must have been
in some very remote part. All efforts to find her proved futile. It was
an open question if she was al