ng like an athlete,
came briskly down the steps. He carried a soft hat in his hand, and
directly he spoke his transatlantic origin was apparent.

"Penelope!" he exclaimed. "Why, what on earth--"

"My dear Dicky," she interrupted, laughing at his expression, "you need
not look so displeased with me. Of course, I know that I ought not to
have come and sent a message into your club. I will admit at once that
it was very forward of me. Perhaps when I have told you why I did so,
you won't look so shocked."

"I'm glad to see you, anyway," he declared. "There's no bad news, I
hope?"

"Nothing that concerns us particularly," she answered. "I simply want to
have a little talk with you. Come in here with me, please, at once. We
can ride for a short distance anywhere."

"But I am just in the middle of a rubber of bridge," he objected.

"It can't be helped," she declared. "To tell you the truth, the matter I
want to talk to you about is of more importance than any game of cards.
Don't be foolish, Dicky. You have your hat in your hand. Step in here by
my side at once."

He looked a little bewildered, but he obeyed her, as most people did
when she was in earnest. She gave the driver an address somewhere in the
city. As soon as they were off, she turned towards him.

"Dicky," she said, "do you read the newspapers?"

"Well, I can't say that I do regularly," he answered. "I read the New
York Herald, but these London journals are a bit difficult, aren't they?
One has to dig the news out,--sort of treasure-hunt all the time."

"You have read this murder case, at any rate," she asked, "about the man
who was killed in a special train between Liverpool and London?"

"Of course," he answered, with a sudden awakening of interest. "What
about it?"

"A good deal," she answered slowly. "In the first place, the man who was
murdered--Mr. Hamilton Fynes--comes from the village where I was brought
up in Massachusetts, and I know more about him, I dare say, than any
one else in this country. What I know isn't very much, perhaps, but it's
interesting. I was to have lunched with him at the Carlton today; in
fact, I went there expecting to do so, for I am like you--I scarcely
ever look inside these English newspapers. Well, I went to the Carlton
and waited and he did not come. At last I went into the office and asked
whether he had arrived. Directly I mentioned his name, it was as though
I had thrown a bomb shell into the place. The clerk c