fused it."

"I think he was just," she said. "Why, it would be simply monstrous if
your career were spoilt through no fault of your own."

He laughed.

"Don't let us talk about me," he said. "What have you done?"

"I've cancelled all my contracts; I have other work to do."

"How are----" He hesitated, but she knew just what he meant, and patted
his arm gratefully.

"Thank you, I have all the money I want," she said. "Father left me
quite a respectable balance. I am closing the house at Horsham and
storing the furniture, and shall keep just sufficient to fill a little
flat I have taken in Bloomsbury."

"But what are you going to do?" he asked curiously.

She shook her head.

"Oh, there are lots of things that a girl can do," she said vaguely,
"besides going on the stage."

"But isn't it a sacrifice? Didn't you love your work?"

She hesitated.

"I thought I did at first," she said. "You see, I was always a very good
mimic. When I was quite a little girl I could imitate the colonel.
Listen!"

Suddenly to his amazement he heard the drawling growl of Dan Boundary.
She laughed with glee at his amazement, but the smile vanished and she
sighed.

"I want you to tell me one thing, Mr. King----"

"Stafford--you promised me," he began.

She reddened.

"I hardly like calling you by your christian name but it sounds so like
a surname that perhaps it won't be so bad."

"What do you want to ask?" he demanded.

She was silent for a moment, then she said:

"How far was my father implicated in this terrible business?"

"In the gang?"

She nodded.

He was in a dilemma. Solomon White was implicated as deeply as any save
the colonel. In his younger days he had been the genius who was
responsible for the organisation and had been for years the colonel's
right-hand man until the more subtle villainy of Pinto Silva, that
Portuguese adventurer, had ousted him, and, if the truth be told, until
the sight of his girl growing to womanhood had brought qualms to the
heart of this man, who, whatever his faults, loved the girl dearly.

"You don't answer me," she said, "but I think I am answered by your
silence. Was my father--a bad man?"

"I would not judge your father," he said. "I can tell you this, that for
the past few years he has played a very small part in the affairs of the
gang. But what are you going to do?"

"How persistent you are!" she laughed. "Why, there are so many things I
am going to do that I haven'