h that we divide
the proceeds."

"The proceeds of what?"

"That's more than I can say, Jim. We've got to find the papers first."

"That's so, Moira. Seeing it's you, I'll hunt for them; if it's worth
while I might even help you through, but you'll have to understand from
the very start that I won't finger a penny of what you call the
proceeds."

"You usen't to be like that, Jim."

"I've changed a lot, haven't I?" I grinned.

For a moment she stared blankly at me, then she asked me, as if the
thought had just occurred to her, "There isn't any other girl, is
there?"

"There never was any other girl," I said. "There was always only the
one, but she failed...."

I saw that she had some intimate little revelation on the tip of her
tongue, so, for fear she might say too much--one never knows what a
woman will say if she fancies any words of hers will gain the day--I
said briskly, "Now, about those papers, Moira. Where did you look?"

"Everywhere, Jim."

"You couldn't have. There's one place at least where you haven't
looked."

"And that?" she queried eagerly.

"The place where they're hidden," I answered disconcertingly.

"Oh," she said blankly; and then, "Have you any idea where that is?"

I shook my head. "None at all, Moira. Still your uncle told you that
they were in his study, and as you say they couldn't have been taken
away, the only thing to do is to look in every likely place for a
start."

"And if we find nothing?"

"Then we'll look in the unlikely places. And as there's no time like the
present, I suggest we start now."

Moira was quite agreeable to that, so we entered the room. Books and
everything lay just as we had left them the night of the tragedy; only
the broken window-pane had been taken out and a new one inserted.

"I never thought of it before," I remarked, "but the sight of that new
pane just brought to my mind how narrow a squeak you had that night."

"I don't follow you, Jim."

"Well, if our friends the police hadn't been so willing to swallow the
obvious, they would have seen that my tale was all bunkum. When that
chap fired he starred the window, and when your shot went through it
finished the job and knocked a finger of glass right out. If the
sergeant had only gone over to the window and examined it carefully, he
would have seen enough to make him wonder how the deuce the same shot
could have hit the same bit of glass in two places. But he didn't go
over to examine it; I