appearance of the poor creature whom
he called mother. Her shrieks redoubled in volume as she understood
that she would not be allowed to see her husband's corpse, and her son
added to the uproar by shouting loudly:

"Hi, there! Don't ill-treat her, or I'll break all your ---- necks!
Confound you, be gentle with her!"

He listened till a door slammed, and a sudden cessation of the tumult
showed that some one, in sheer self-defense, had given her morphia,
the only sedative that could have any real effect. Then he turned, and
became aware of the presence of the two detectives.

"Well," he said furiously, "who are you, and what the blazes do you
want here? Get out, both of you, or I'll have you chucked out!"

CHAPTER VI

WHEREIN FURNEAUX SEEKS INSPIRATION FROM
LITERATURE AND ART

The head of the Criminal Investigation Department was not the sort of
man to accept meekly whatsoever coarse commands Robert Fenley chose to
fling at him. He met the newcomer's angry stare with a cold and steady
eye.

"You should moderate your language in the presence of death, Mr.
Fenley," he said. "We are here because it is our duty. You, on your
part, would have acted more discreetly had you gone to your mother's
assistance instead of swearing at those who were acting for the best
under trying conditions."

"Damn your eyes, are you speaking to me?" came the wrathful cry.

"Surely you have been told that your father is lying there dead!" went
on Winter sternly. "Mrs. Fenley might have yielded readily to your
persuasion, but your help took the form of threatening people who
adopted the only other course possible. Calm yourself, sir, and try to
remember that the father from whom you parted in anger has been
murdered. My colleague and I represent Scotland Yard; we were brought
here by your brother. See that you meet us in the dining-room in a
quarter of an hour. Come, Furneaux!"

And, stirred for once to a feeling of deep annoyance, the big man
strode out into the open air, with a sublime disregard for either the
anger or the alarm struggling for mastery in Robert Fenley's sullen
face.

"Phew!" he said, drawing a deep breath before descending the steps.
"What an unlicked cub! And they wanted to marry that girl to him!"

"It sha'n't be done, James," said Furneaux.

"I actually lost my temper," puffed the other.

"Tell you what! Let's put the Inspector on to him. Tell the local
sleuths half what we know, and they'll run h