rliest possible train for Holyhead so as to be on hand for the first
Irish packet to-morrow. And while you're looking for your hat, sir--good
evening, Mr. Van Nant--I'll step outside and tell Lennard to start up."

With that, he passed out of the studio, walked down the hall, and went
out of the house. And half a minute later, when the superintendent
joined him, he found him sitting in the limousine and staring at his
toes.

"My dear Cleek, did you find anything?" he queried, as he took a seat
beside him, and the motor swung out into the road and whizzed away. "Of
course, I know you've no more idea of going to Ireland than you have of
taking a pot-shot at the moon: but there's something on your mind. I
know the signs, Cleek. What is it?"

The response to this was rather startling.

"Mr. Narkom," said Cleek, answering one question with another, "what's
the best thing to make powdered bismuth stick--lard, cold cream, or
cocoa butter?"

CHAPTER XXVI

If punctuality is a virtue, then Mr. Maurice Van Nant deserved to go on
record as one of the most virtuous men in existence. For the little
Dutch clock in Captain Morrison's drawing-room had barely begun to
strike seven on the following Thursday evening when he put in an
appearance there, and found the Captain and his daughter anxiously
awaiting him. But, as virtue is, on most excellent authority, its own
reward, he had to be satisfied with the possession of it, since neither
Narkom nor Cleek was there to meet him.

But the reason for this defection was made manifest when Miss Morrison
placed before him a telegram which had arrived some ten minutes earlier
and read as follows: "Unavoidably delayed. Be with you at nine-thirty.
Ask Mr. Van Nant to wait. Great and welcome piece of news for
him.--NARKOM."

Van Nant smiled.

"Great and welcome news," he repeated. "Then Mr. Headland must have
found something in the nature of a clue in Ireland, captain, though what
he could find there I can't imagine. Frankly, I thought him a stupid
sort of fellow, but if he has managed to find a clue to poor George's
whereabouts over in Ireland, he must be sharper than I believed. Well,
we shall know about that at half-past nine, when Mr. Narkom comes. I
hope nothing will happen to make him disappoint us again."

Nothing did. Promptly at the hour appointed, the red limousine whizzed
up to the door, and Mr. Narkom made his appearance. But, contrary to the
expectations of the thre