on
to him," and he held out his hand with the assurance of one who shared
the dearest secrets of the doctor. The stranger's hand wandered to his
breast pocket, but came back empty.

"No, it must be given--I must see the doctor himself," he said. "He does
not expect me and I will wait."

Beale thought quickly.

"Well, perhaps you will come upstairs to my flat and wait," he said
genially, and led the way, and the man, still showing evidence of
uneasiness, was ushered into his room, where the sight of the Rev.
Parson Homo tended to reassure him.

Would he have tea? He would not have tea. Would he take coffee? He would
not take coffee. A glass of wine perhaps? No, he did not drink wine nor
beer, nor would he take any refreshment whatever.

"My man," thought the desperate Beale, "I either chloroform you or hit
you on the head with the poker, but I am going to see that letter."

As if divining his thought, but placing thereon a wrong construction,
the man said:

"I should avail myself of your kindness to deliver my letter to Doctor
van Heerden, but of what service would it be since it is only a letter
introducing me to the good doctor?"

"Oh, is that all?" said Beale, disappointed, and somehow he knew the man
spoke the truth.

"That is all," he said, "except of course my message, which is verbal.
My name is Stardt, you may have heard the doctor speak of me. We have
had some correspondence."

"Yes, yes, I remember," lied Beale.

"The message is for him alone, of course, as you will understand, and if
I deliver it to you," smiled Herr Stardt, "you should not understand it,
because it is one word."

"One word?" said Beale blankly. "A code--hang!"

CHAPTER XVI

THE PAWN TICKET

Oliva Cresswell awoke to consciousness as she was being carried up the
stairs of the house. She may have recovered sooner, for she retained a
confused impression of being laid down amidst waving grasses and of
hearing somebody grunt that she was heavier than he thought.

Also she remembered as dimly the presence of Dr. van Heerden standing
over her, and he was wearing a long grey dust-coat.

As her captor kicked open the door of her room she scrambled out of his
arms and leant against the bed-rail for support.

"I'm all right," she said breathlessly, "it was foolish to faint,
but--but you frightened me."

The man grinned, and seemed about to speak, but a sharp voice from the
landing called him, and he went out, slamming th