ene, she
must know soon."

"He is dead" cried Helen wildly, "say the words Cyril say them."

Cyril bowed his head "yes" he murmured "dead--murd----

"Hush" whispered Mr. Palsey striking him on the arm, "you idiot, keep
quiet."

With a shriek, Helen tore herself from Cyril's grasp and ran like the
wind, she herself knew not wither; at the station gate her strength
failed her, she turned, she tottered, she tried to scream and fell
insensible at the feet of the villians.

CHAPTER 9

HELEN'S ACCTIDENT

Cyril and Mr. Palsey lost no time in conveying Helen to a cab which was
waiting outside. They placed her on one of the seats and bade the cabman
drive directly to number 2 Medina Road, where Cyril was lodging.

"How will you manage about the money Cyril?" presently asked Mr. Palsey.

"Dont speak to me of money?" cried Cyril bitterly, "oh Helen Helen" and
he bent over his unconcious sweetheart.

"Pon me word Cyril" cried Mr. Palsey "you're a born idiot, the girl will
soon recover, you'll marry her and we'll go halfs with the money, its
simply ridiculous the way you mople and mumble over her, let her alone
I say and tell me how the murd--the bussiness went off."

"I've told you twice it was very successful" replied Cyril impatiantly.

"You're trying to hide something I can see" cried Mr. Palsey
passionately, "you'd best tell me, or not a farthing of the money shall
be yours."

"I dont see that" said Cyril cooly, "you dont even know where the safe
is." Mr. Palsey bit his lips in suppressed anger. Cyril's words were
stiningly true and made him boil with passion. "Here we are" said Cyril,
as the cab stopped at a dimly lighted street corner.

"Hi cabman, get down and open the door" screamed Mr. Palsey.

The man shuffled down from the box and opened the door.

"Any luggage" he asked roughly.

"No" replied Mr. Palsey "there is a young lady fainted and we are going
to carry her in to this house."

"Right" responded the man and he stood aside while Cyril and Mr. Palsey
came gingerly out carrying Helen between them.

As they were ascending the steps a rough looking man in a torn red
shirt and battered hat came up and addressed himself to Cyril.

"Hi sir" he cried out "what about that L10 you promised; I'm a poor
starving man and I cant wait much longer.

"Bother" muttered Cyril "here man will a shilling suffice for this
evening, I'll pay the rest tomorrow."

"All right" grumbled the man, "unless you p