posing them for a few seconds to the light of an electric lamp.

Instantly it had filled the Home Secretary's office with a pungent
and most disagreeable smoke, for which he was heartily cursed by his
superiors. But it had rounded off the argument.

He looked at his watch.

"I wonder if it is too late to see Mrs. Lexman," he said.

"I don't think any hour would be too late," suggested Mansus.

"You shall come and chaperon me," said his superior.

But a disappointment awaited. Mrs. Lexman was not in and neither the
ringing at her electric bell nor vigorous applications to the knocker
brought any response. The hall porter of the flats where she lived
was under the impression that Mrs. Lexman had gone out of town. She
frequently went out on Saturdays and returned on the Monday and, he
thought, occasionally on Tuesdays.

It happened that this particular night was a Monday night and T. X.
was faced with a dilemma. The night porter, who had only the vaguest
information on the subject, thought that the day porter might know more,
and aroused him from his sleep.

Yes, Mrs. Lexman had gone. She went on the Sunday, an unusual day to
pay a week-end visit, and she had taken with her two bags. The porter
ventured the opinion that she was rather excited, but when asked to
define the symptoms relapsed into a chaos of incoherent "you-knows" and
"what-I-means."

"I don't like this," said T. X., suddenly. "Does anybody know that we
have made these discoveries?"

"Nobody outside the office," said Mansus, "unless, unless..."

"Unless what?" asked the other, irritably. "Don't be a jimp, Mansus. Get
it off your mind. What is it?"

"I am wondering," said Mansus slowly, "if the landlord at Great James
Street said anything. He knows we have made a search."

"We can easily find that out," said T. X.

They hailed a taxi and drove to Great James Street. That respectable
thoroughfare was wrapped in sleep and it was some time before the
landlord could be aroused. Recognizing T. X. he checked his sarcasm,
which he had prepared for a keyless lodger, and led the way into the
drawing room.

"You didn't tell me not to speak about it, Mr. Meredith," he said, in an
aggrieved tone, "and as a matter of fact I have spoken to nobody except
the gentleman who called the same day."

"What did he want?" asked T. X.

"He said he had only just discovered that Mr. Vassalaro had stayed with
me and he wanted to pay whatever rent was due," replied t