iew than
marriage. Her beauty, her charm, all the attractive qualities which
appeal to most men and to all brutes have no appeal for him--to him she
is just a money proposition. If he can't marry her, she has no further
interest for him."

"I see that," agreed the lawyer, "but----"

"Wait, please. If we knew where she was we could stop the marriage and
indict van Heerden--but I've an idea that we shan't locate her until it
is too late or nearly too late. I can't go hunting with a pack of
policemen. I must play a lone hand, or nearly a lone hand. When I find
her I must be in a position to marry her without losing a moment."

"You mean to marry her to foil van Heerden, and after--to dissolve the
marriage?" asked the lawyer, shaking his head. "I don't like that
solution, Beale--I tell you frankly, I don't like it. You're a good man
and I have every faith in you, but if I consented, even though I were
confident that you would play fair, which I am, I should feel that I had
betrayed John Millinborn's trust. It isn't because it is you, my son,"
he said kindly enough, "but if you were the Archangel Gabriel I'd kick
at that plan. Marriage is a difficult business to get out of once you
are in it, especially in this country."

Beale did not interrupt the older man.

"Right, and now if you've finished I'll tell you my scheme," he said,
"as I see it there's only a ghost of a chance of our saving this girl
from marriage. I've done my best and we--McNorton and I--have taken all
the facts before a judge this morning. We got a special interview with
the idea of securing a warrant for van Heerden's arrest. But there is no
evidence to convict him on any single charge. We cannot connect him with
the disappearance of Miss Cresswell, and although I pointed out that van
Heerden admits that he knows where the girl is, the judge said, fairly I
thought, that there was no law which compelled a man to divulge the
address of his fiancee to one who was a possible rival. The girl is of
an age when she can do as she wishes, and as I understand the matter you
have no legal status as a guardian."

"None," said James Kitson, "that is our weak point. I am merely the
custodian of her money. Officially I am supposed to be ignorant of the
fact that Oliva Cresswell is Oliva Predeaux, the heiress."

"Therefore our hands are tied," concluded Beale quietly. "Don't you see
that my plan is the only one--but I haven't told you what it is. There's
a man, a