t he had in his client, an interest revealed by the
momentary panic into which her disappearance had thrown this usually
collected young man, clouded his better judgment.

A vague discomfort possessed him and he paused irresolutely at the
corner of the street. There was a chance that she might still be
concealed in the building, but a greater chance that if he followed one
of the three plans which were rapidly forming in his mind he might save
the girl from whatever danger threatened her.

"You are perfectly sure you heard her voice?"

"Certain," replied Beale shortly, "just as I am sure that I smelt the
ether."

"She may have been using it for some other purpose. Women put these
drugs to all sorts of weird purposes, like cleaning gloves, and----"

"That may be," interrupted Beale, "but I wasn't mistaken about her
voice. I am not subject to illusions of that kind."

He whistled. A man who had been lurking in the shadow of a building on
the opposite side of the road crossed to him.

"Fenson," said Beale, "watch these flats. If you see a car drive up just
go along and stand in front of the door. Don't let anybody enter that
car or carry any bundle into that car until you are sure that Miss
Cresswell is not one of the party or the bundle. If necessary you can
pull a gun--I know it isn't done in law-abiding London," he smiled at
Superintendent McNorton, "but I guess you've got to let me do a little
law-breaking."

"Go all the way," said the superintendent easily.

"That will do, Fenson. You know Miss Cresswell?"

"Sure, sir," said the man, and melted back into the shadows.

"Where are you going now?" asked Kitson.

"I am going to interview a gentleman who will probably give me a great
deal of information about van Heerden's other residences."

"Has he many?" asked Kitson, in surprise.

Beale nodded.

"He has been hiring buildings and houses for the past three months," he
said quietly, "and he has been so clever that I will defy you to trace
one of them. All his hiring has been done through various lawyers he has
employed, and they are all taken in fictitious names."

"Do you know any of them?"

"Not one," said Beale, with a baffled little laugh, "didn't I tell you
he's mighty clever? I got track of two of them but they were the only
two where the sale didn't go through."

"What does he want houses for?"

"We shall learn one of these days," said Beale cryptically. "I can tell
you something else, gentl