r his room. I wonder if that bad
fellow'"--Dr. Lepardo poked a jesting finger at the girl--"'I wonder if
he sell them.'"

"I'm _sure_ he wouldn't," flashed Miss Maitland. Then came a sudden
cloud upon the young face. "That is--I don't think he would--if he could
help it."

"Ah, those money troubles," sighed the old doctor. "But I quite forgot
my business, thinking of Lawrence. There has been an--accident at your
office, my child. _He_ is quite well. Do not be afraid. Tell me--when
did you leave to-night?"

Iris Maitland retreated from him step by step, her eyes fixed
affrightedly upon his face. She sank into an arm-chair. The pretty blush
had fled now, and she was very pale.

"Why," she said tensely, "why have you asked me those questions? You do
not know Lawrence. What has happened? Oh, what has happened?"

She was trembling now.

"Oh," she said, "I am afraid of you, Dr. Lepardo. I don't know what you
want. Who are you? But I see now that you have made me tell you all
about him. I will tell you no more."

"My dear," said Dr. Lepardo, and the rumbling of his voice was kindly,
"a woman has that great gift, intuition. It is true. It is my rule, my
dear, never to neglect opportunity, however slight. When I arrive,
unexpected, you glance at his photograph. You associate him, then, with
the unexpected. I experiment. Forgive me. It is by such leaps in the
dark that great things are won. It is where a little intuition is worth
much wisdom. You are a brave girl, and so I tell you--it is for you to
save Lawrence. If the Scotland Yard Mr. Harborne knew so much as I,
nothing, I fear, could save him. I can do it--_I_. You shall help me. I
work, my child, as no man has worked before. For great things I work. I
work against time--against the police. I aspire to do the all but
impossible--the wonderful. Only what you call luck and what I call
intuition can make me win. A bargain--you answer me my questions and I
answer you yours?"

The girl nodded. Her fingers were clutching and releasing the arms of
the chair. Through the odd mask of peering benevolence worn by the brown
old traveller another, inspired, being momentarily had peeped forth.

"What time did you leave to-night?"

"A quarter past six."

"How many appointments had Mr. Graham afterwards? One with Lawrence.
What other?"

"With Mr. Rohscheimer."

"No other?"

"No."

"What time Lawrence?"

"Directly I left."

"Mr. Graham did not know you two are acquai