the art green and blues
of which were scarcely in keeping with his serious, earnest
character--and together we drove in a taxi-cab to St. Thomas's Hospital,
where, in the accident ward, we stood at the bedside of the mysterious
Steinheim. His head was enveloped in surgical bandages, but during the
night he had regained consciousness. To the questions we put to him,
however, we obtained no satisfactory replies. His mind seemed to be a
perfect blank as to what had occurred.

Ray read the copy of those cryptic figures upon the scrap of paper found
in the railway carriage. When my friend pronounced the name of the
station "Weldon and Corby," the invalid's big grey eyes started from his
head as he exclaimed in German:

"Ah! Yes--yes. At Weldon. She was at Weldon!"

Who was "she"? In vain we tried to wring from him some reply to this
question, but, alas! in vain.

Mention of Hermann Hartmann, the ingenious and fearless secret agent who
controlled so cleverly the vast army of German spies spread over our
smiling land of England, brought no responsive expression to the man's
white, drawn face. It was indeed apparent that his intention was to hold
back at all hazards the truth regarding the murderous attack upon him.
Perhaps he himself was guilty of some offence, or perhaps he intended to
hold his peace then and to retaliate at a moment when his assailant
thought himself most secure.

He was a big, burly, strong-featured man, just the type of heavy-limbed
German who might be expected to bear a murderous malice against any who
did him injury.

"I feel more than ever convinced that Hartmann is at the bottom of the
curious affair," Ray declared, as we walked together across Westminster
Bridge and I crossed with him to the St. Stephen's Club, at the corner
of the Embankment. "As far as I can discover, the man was always in
possession of ample funds. Yet to his landlady he was careful never to
reveal that he had money. There was, no doubt, some hidden reason for
this, as well as for the letter he wrote to the woman after his
departure."

"The mystery surrounding the affair grows more fascinating as we
proceed," I declared.

"And if the deduction I have made this morning proves to be the correct
one, Jack, the mystery will still increase. There's some very crooked
business in progress, depend upon it."

That afternoon I had to make an application in the Chancery Court,
therefore it was not until after dinner that I again