I understand is your uncle."

"What do you want with him?" she asked.

The inspector made no direct reply.

"There are a few questions," he said, "which it is my duty to put to
you."

"Questions?" she repeated.

"Do you know where your uncle is?"

Ruth shook her head.

"I left him here this morning," she replied. "He has not been out
for several days. I expected to find him here when I returned."

"We have been here since four o'clock," the man said. "There was no
one here when we arrived, nor has any one been since. Your uncle has
no regular hours, I suppose?"

"He is very uncertain," Ruth answered. "He does newspaper reporting,
and he sometimes has to work late."

"Can you tell me what newspaper he is engaged upon?"

"The _Signal_, for one," Ruth replied.

Inspector Grant was silent for a moment.

"The _Signal_ newspaper offices were seized by the police some days
ago," he remarked. "Do you know of any other journal on which your
uncle worked?"

She shook her head.

"He tells me very little of his affairs," she faltered.

The inspector pointed backwards into the further corner of the
apartment.

"Do you often go into his room there?" he asked.

"I have not been for months," Ruth assured him. "My uncle keeps it
locked up. He told me that there had been some trouble at the office
and he was printing something there."

The inspector rose slowly to his feet. On the table by his side was
a pile of articles covered over with a tablecloth. Very deliberately
he removed the latter and looked keenly at Ruth. She shrank back
with a little scream. There were half a dozen murderous-looking
pistols there, a Mannerlicher rifle, and a quantity of ammunition.

"What does your uncle need with these?" the inspector asked dryly.

"How can I tell?" Ruth replied. "I have never seen one of them
before. I never knew that they were in the place."

"Nor I," Arnold echoed. "I have been a constant visitor here, too,
and I have never seen firearms of any sort before."

The inspector turned towards him.

"Are you a friend of Isaac Lalonde?" he asked.

"I am not," Arnold answered. "I am a friend of his niece here, Miss
Ruth Lalonde. I know very little of Isaac, although I see him here
sometimes."

"I should like to know your name, if you have no objection," the
inspector remarked.

"My name is Chetwode," Arnold told him. "I occupy a room on the
other side of the passage."

"When did you last see Isaac Lalonde?