" said Mr. Jobling again.

Mrs. Jobling's face relaxed. "I shouldn't like to lose it at the last
moment," she said. "You 'ave been good to me lately, Bill; buying all
these nice things. There's not many women have got such a thoughtful
husband as what I have."

"Have you gone dotty? or what?" enquired her bewildered husband.

"It's no wonder people like you," pursued Mrs. Jobling, ignoring the
question, and smiling again as she placed three chairs at the table.
"I'll wait a minute or two before I soak the tea; I expect Miss Robinson
won't be long, and she likes it fresh."

Mr. Jobling, to conceal his amazement and to obtain a little fresh air
walked out of the room and opened the front door.

"Cheer oh!" said the watchful Mr. Brown, with a benignant smile.

Mr. Jobling scowled at him.

"It's all right," said Mr. Brown. "You go in and set down; I'm watching
for her."

He nodded reassuringly, and, not having curiosity enough to accept the
other's offer and step across the road and see what he would get, shaded
his eyes with his hand and looked with exaggerated anxiety up the road.
Mr. Jobling, heavy of brow, returned to the parlor and looked hard at
his wife.

"She's late," said Mrs. Jobling, glancing at the clock. "I do hope she's
all right, but I should feel anxious about her if she was my gal. It's a
dangerous life."

"Dangerous life!" said Mr. Jobling, roughly. "What's a dangerous life?"

"Why, hers," replied his wife, with a nervous smile. "Joe Brown told me.
He followed her 'ome last night, and this morning he found out all about
her."

The mention of Mr. Brown's name caused Mr. Jobling at first to assume an
air of indifference; but curiosity overpowered him.

"What lies has he been telling?" he demanded.

"I don't think it's a lie, Bill," said his wife, mildly. "Putting two
and two--"

"What did he say?" cried Mr. Jobling, raising his voice.

"He said, 'She--she's a lady detective,'" stammered Mrs. Jobling,
putting her handkerchief to her unruly mouth.

"A tec!" repeated her husband. "A lady tec?"

Mrs. Jobling nodded. "Yes, Bill. She--she--she----"

"Well?" said Mr. Jobling, in exasperation.

"She's being employed by Gingell and Watson," said his wife.

Mr. Jobling sprang to his feet, and with scarlet face and clinched fists
strove to assimilate the information and all its meaning.

"What--what did she come here for? Do you mean to tell me she thinks I
took the money?" he said, huskily,