reat, the instrument, the opportunity and what more
could you ask, except the motive? As for the rest, it was damning. On
that point foregathering members agreed--with one exception.

In a seated group was Jones. His neighbours alarmed him. They belonged,
he thought, to a very dangerous class, to a class which a sociologist
defined as the most dangerous of all--to the stupid. According to them,
Lennox was not merely guilty, he was worse. He had besplattered the club
with the blood of a man who, hang it all, whether you liked him or not,
was also a member. The Athenaeum would become a byword. Already, no
doubt, it was known as the Assassin's. Et cetera and so forth.

The group thinned, increased, thinned again, scattered.

Jones, alone with a survivor, addressed him. "How is my handsome friend
to-day?"

Verelst turned impatiently. "In no mood for jesting. I ought to have
hurried him off. Now he is in jail."

Jones lit a cigarette. "There are honest men everywhere, even in jail,
perhaps particularly in jail. Whom has he, do you know?"

"To defend him? Dunwoodie. Ogston told me. Ogston says----"

"I daresay he does. His remarks are always very poignant."

"But look here. Before the arrest was known, Ogston was in this room
telling everybody that, last night, he gave Lennox a seat in Paliser's
box. He will have to testify to it. He can't help himself."

"Perhaps I can help him though. I was with Lennox at the time."

"You were? That's awkward. You may have to corroborate him."

"I certainly shall. I have the seat."

"What?"

"Lennox dropped the ticket. After he had gone, I found it on the floor.
It is in my shop now."

"Well, well!" Verelst astoundedly exclaimed. "But, here, hold on. The
papers say he had a return check."

Jones flicked his ashes. "I have one or two myself. Probably you have.
Even otherwise return checks tell no tales, or rather no dates."

"I never thought of that."

"Think of it now, then."

"Yes, but confound it, there is the stiletto."

"As you say, there it is and I wish it were here. It is mine."

Verelst adjusted his glasses. "What are you talking about?"

"The war," Jones answered. "What else? In my shop last evening, Lennox
was drawing his will. In gathering up the sheets, the knife must have
got among them and, without knowing it, he carried it off. This morning
I missed it. The loss affected me profoundly. It is an old friend."

"You don't tell me."

"Don't I? I'll go