orries me," said the colonel. "I'm always getting into
trouble, and I'm always getting out again. Give a dog a bad name
and----"

He stopped. There arose in his mind a mental picture of a man swinging
in an underground kitchen, and in spite of his self-control he
shuddered.

"And hang him, eh?" said Sir Stanley. "Now, I'm going to put matters to
you very plainly, colonel. There have been three or four very unpleasant
happenings. There has been the death of the chief witness for the Crown
against you; there has been the death of this unhappy man White, who was
closely associated with you in your business deals, and who had recently
broken away from you, unless our information is inaccurate; there is the
death of Raoul, who was seen seated next to you and apparently carrying
on a conversation behind a fan."

"He never spoke a word to me," protested the colonel.

"And we have the disappearance of Miss White, which is one of the most
important of the happenings, because we have reason to believe that Miss
White, at any rate, is still alive," said Sir Stanley, taking no notice
of the interruption. "Now, colonel, you may or may not have the key to
all these mysteries. You may or may not know who your mysterious friend,
the Jack o' Judgment----"

"He's no friend of mine, by heaven!" said the colonel, and neither man
doubted that he spoke the truth.

"As I say, you may know all these things. But principally at this moment
we are anxious to secure authentic news concerning Miss White. Both I
and Mr. Stafford King have particular reasons for desiring information
on that subject. Can you help us?"

The colonel shook his head.

"If by spending a hundred thousand pounds I could help you, I would do
it," he said fervently, "but as to Miss White and where she is, I am as
much at sea as you. Do you believe that, sir?"

"No," said Sir Stanley truthfully; "I don't."

CHAPTER XX

"SWELL" CREWE BACKS OUT

The colonel left Scotland Yard with a sense that he had spent the
morning not unprofitably. It was his way to beard the lion in his den,
and after all, the police department was no more formidable than any
other public department. He spent the morning quietly in Pinto's flat,
making certain preparations. The workmen were making a thorough job of
his damaged wall, as he found when he looked in, and the horrible odour
had almost disappeared. It was to be a much longer job than he thought.
It had been necessary to cut