nd in an instant the detaining hand fell, and Dollops' chest
went out like a pouter pigeon's.

"Catch on to that, Suburbs?" said he, giving the constable a look of
blighting scorn; and, swaggering by like a mighty conqueror, joined
Cleek at the compartment door. "Nailed it at the second rap, guv'ner,"
he said in an undertone. "Fell down on Gamage's, picked myself up on
Loader, Tottenham Court Road; 14127 A, manufactured Stockholm. Valve
tightened--old customer--day before yesterday in the afternoon."

"Good boy! good boy!" said Cleek, patting him approvingly. "Keep your
tongue between your teeth. Scuttle off, and find out where there's a
garage, and then wait outside the station till I come."

"Right you are, sir," responded Dollops, bolting the remainder of the
bun. Then he ducked down and slipped away. And Cleek, stepping back into
the shadow, where his features might not be too clearly seen until he
was ready that they should be, stood and narrowly watched the small
procession which was being piloted to the scene of the tragedy. A moment
later the four persons already announced passed under Cleek's watchful
eye, and stood in the dead man's presence. Lady Stavornell, tall,
graceful, beautiful, looking as one might look whose lifelong martyrdom
had come at last to a glorious end; Captain Crawford, bronzed, agitated,
a trifle nervous, short of stature, slight of build, with a rather
cynical mouth and a small dark moustache; the Hon. Mrs. Brinkworth, a
timid, dove-eyed, little wisp of a woman, with a clinging, pathetic,
almost childish manner, her soft eyes red with grief, her mobile mouth
a-quiver with pain, the marks of tears on her lovely little face; and,
last of all, Colonel Murchison, heavy, bull-necked, ponderous of body,
and purple of visage a living, breathing monument of Self.

"Hum-m-m!" muttered Cleek to himself, as this unattractive person passed
by. "Not he--not by his hand. He never struck the blow--too cowardly,
too careful. And yet---- Poor little woman! poor little woman!" And his
sympathetic eyes went past the others--past Mrs. Brinkworth, sobbing and
wringing her hands and calling piteously on the dead to speak--and dwelt
long and tenderly upon Lady Stavornell.

A moment he stood there silent, watching, listening, making neither
movement nor sound; then of a sudden he put forth his hand and tapped
Narkom's arm.

"Detain this party, every member of it, by any means, on any pretext,
for another fo