ular
with the Chief Inspector, and termed by him "beating." Possessed of
an undisguisable personality, Kerry had found a way of employing his
natural physical peculiarities to his professional advantage. Where
other investigators worked in the dark, secretly, Red Kerry sought the
limelight--at the right time. That every hour lost in getting on
the track of the mysterious Kazmah was a point gained by the equally
mysterious man from Whitehall he felt assured, and although the
elaborate but hidden mechanism of New Scotland Yard was at work seeking
out the patrons of the Bond Street drug-shop, Kerry was indisposed to
await the result.

He had been in the night club only about ten minutes, but during those
ten minutes fully a dozen people had more or less hurriedly departed.
Because of the arrangements already made by Sergeant Coombes, the
addresses of many of these departing visitors would be in Kerry's
possession ere the night was much older. And why should they have fled,
incontinent, if not for the reason that they feared to become involved
in the Kazmah affair? All the cabmen had been warned, and those
fugitives who had private cars would be followed.

It was a curious scene which Kerry surveyed, a scene to have interested
philosopher and politician alike. For here were representatives of every
stratum of society, although some of those standing for the lower strata
were suitably disguised. The peerage was well represented, so was Judah;
there were women entitled to wear coronets dancing with men entitled to
wear the broad arrow, and men whose forefathers had signed Magna Charta
dancing with chorus girls from the revues and musical comedies.

Waiting until the dance was fully in progress, Inspector Kerry walked
slowly around the room in the direction of the stair. Parties seated at
tables were treated each to an intolerant stare, alcoves were inspected,
and more than one waiter meeting the gaze of the steely eyes, felt a
prickling of conscience and recalled past peccadilloes.

Bill had claimed Mollie Gretna for the dance, but:

"No, Bill," she had replied, watching Kerry as if enthralled; "I don't
want to dance. I am watching Chief Inspector Kerry."

"That's evident," complained the young man. "Perhaps you would like to
spend the rest of the night in Bow Street?"

"Oh," whispered Mollie, "I should love it! I have never been arrested,
but if ever I am I hope it will be by Chief Inspector Kerry. I am
positive he w