name of a house," said Beale. "I have noticed
that in England you are in the habit of naming rather than numbering
your houses, especially in the suburbs." He looked across to Parson
Homo, "Can you help?"

The man shook his head.

"If I were a vulgar burglar I might assist you," he said, "but my branch
of the profession does not take me to the suburbs."

"We will get a Kingston Directory and go through it," said McNorton; "we
have one on the file at Scotland Yard. If----"

Beale suddenly raised his hand to enjoin silence: he had heard a
familiar step in the corridor outside.

"That's van Heerden," he said in a low voice, "he has been out all the
morning."

"Has he been shadowed?" asked McNorton in the same tone.

"My man lost him," he said.

He tiptoed along the passage and stood listening behind the door.
Presently he heard the doctor's door close and came back.

"I have had the best sleuth in America trailing him," he said, "and he
has slipped him every time."

"Anyway," said McNorton, "this telegram disposes of the idea that she
has gone to Liverpool. It also settles the question as to whether she
went of her own free will. If his name were on that telegram," he said
thoughtfully, "I would take a risk and pull him in."

"I will give you something bigger to pull him for," Beale said, "once I
have placed Miss Cresswell in safety."

"The Green Rust?" smiled the police chief.

"The Green Rust," said Beale, but he did not smile, "that's van
Heerden's big game. The abduction of Miss Cresswell is merely a means to
an end. He wants her money and may want it very badly. The more urgent
is his need the sooner that marriage takes place."

"But there is no clergyman in England who would marry them"--it was Homo
who interrupted. "My dear friend, that sort of thing is not done except
in story books. If the woman refuses her consent the marriage cannot
possibly occur. As I understand, the lady is not likely to be cowed."

"That is what I am afraid of," said Beale, "she is all pluck----"

He stopped, for he had heard the doctor's door close. In three strides
he had crossed the hallway and was in the corridor, confronting his
suave neighbour. Dr. van Heerden, carefully attired, was pulling on his
gloves and smiled into the stern face of his rival.

"Well," he asked pleasantly, "any news of Miss Cresswell?"

"If I had any news of Miss Cresswell you would not be here," said Beale.

"But how interesting," drawled