, keeping my hand on his shoulder, almost
caressingly. "I'd listen attentively, if I were in your place. What you
can do is to make a clean breast of your story from beginning to end.
I'm willing to pay you more for confessing than Wildred did for
plotting. Then you must go back to England with me, and stand by while
the thing is made public."

As I spoke he did not once take his eyes from me. It was remarkable even
yet, now that he was out of his disguise, how strong his likeness was to
Farnham. He might have been a younger brother.

When I had finished he sighed and drooped his head. His own hair, which
was very closely cut, was of a beautiful reddish golden colour, much the
shade of Karine Cunningham's, as the light fell on it from above. I
thought of her with a great wave of passionate love, and more of hope
than I had dared to feel for many a long day.

Perhaps it was the recollection of her lovely face and the wonderful
halo of her hair which caused me for an instant to relax my grasp. I
only became conscious of having done so when the fellow twisted himself
from under my hand, and springing lithely to his feet would have darted
through the swing door had I not leaped after him like a tiger.

We fought together as the car swayed and bounded along its tracks. Once
he dived under my arm and was almost out of my clutches, but I caught
him by the collar with so fierce a grip that the linen of his shirt
tore, and the garment ripped open to the waistcoat.

Something which he wore beneath snapped, as he still struggled to escape
me, and a bright object flashed under my eyes as it fell, and dropped
with a slight metallic noise to the floor.

Evidently it was to him an article of value. Impulsively he stooped,
forgetful for a second of the object which had animated him, and thus
the advantage became all mine again. I had him pinioned fast.

At our feet, I now had time to observe, lay a broken gold chain and a
locket.

Twisting my hand firmly in his collar I bent over and picked up the
ornaments. "Allow me," I said, smiling. And as I was about to put the
locket in his hand I could not avoid seeing the portrait that it framed.
It was an open-faced, old-fashioned thing, set round with a rim of
pearls. The crystal had been cracked across in the fall, but the
delicately painted ivory miniature within was intact, and I gave a
slight exclamation as I saw that it represented Karine Cunningham.

If I had been surprised to