ers in a great stock-exchange battle dispose of fortunes with
a nod or a lift of the eyebrows.

"But--she doesn't know anything about you or against you," added M. Paul,
and he seemed to be almost pleading.

"She has caused me a lot of trouble and, she _might_ know."

"You mean, her memory?"

"Yes, it might come back."

"Of course," agreed the other with judicial fairness. "I asked Duprat about
it and he said _it might_."

"Ah, you see!"

"And--when do you--begin?"

"There's no hurry. When we get through talking. Is there anything else you
want to ask?"

The detective reflected a moment. "Was it you personally who killed my
dog?"

"Yes."

"And my mother?" His face was very white and his voice trembled. "Did
you--did you intend to kill her?"

The baron shrugged his shoulders. "I left that to chance."

"That's all," said Coquenil. "I--I am ready now."

With a look of mingled compassion and admiration De Heidelmann-Bruck met M.
Paul's unflinching gaze.

"We take our medicine, eh? I took mine when you had me hitched to that
heart machine, and--now you'll take yours. Good-by, Coquenil," he held out
his hand, "I'm sorry."

"Good-by," answered the detective with quiet dignity. "If it's all the same
to you, I--I won't shake hands."

"No? Ah, well! I'll send in the girl." He moved toward the heavy door.

"Wait!" said M. Paul. "You have left your diary." He pointed to the table.

The baron smiled mockingly. "I intended to leave it; the book has served
its purpose, I'm tired of it. Don't be alarmed, _it will not be found_." He
glanced with grim confidence at the stacked wood. "You'll have fifteen or
twenty minutes after she comes in, that is, if you make no disturbance.
Good-by."

The door swung open and a moment later Coquenil saw a dim, white-clad
figure among the shadows, and Alice, with beautiful, frightened eyes,
staggered toward him. Then the door clanged shut and the sound of grating
bolts was heard on the other side.

Alice and Coquenil were alone.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE LOST DOLLY

As Alice saw M. Paul she ran forward with a glad cry and clung to his arm.

"I've been _so_ frightened," she trembled. "The man said you wanted me and
I came at once, but, in the automobile, I felt something was wrong and--you
know _he_ is outside?" Her eyes widened anxiously.

"I know. Sit down here." He pointed to the table. "Does Pougeot know about
this?"

She shook her head. "The man came for M. Poug