t," reassured Kennedy, taking down on a card her address
and bowing her out.

It was late in the afternoon before we had an opportunity to call at the
Gaskell town house where the Rovignos were staying. The Count was not at
home, but the Countess welcomed us and led us directly into a large
library.

"I'd like to have you meet my father," she introduced. "Father, this is
Professor Kennedy, whom Alex and I have engaged to look into the burning
of our house."

Old Roger Gaskell received us, I thought, with a curious mixture of
restraint and eagerness.

"I hope you'll excuse me?" asked the Countess a moment later. "I really
must dress for dinner. But I think I've told you all I can. I wanted you
to talk to my father."

"I've heard of the epidemic of fires from my friend Mr. Jameson here, on
the _Star_," remarked Kennedy when we were alone. "Some, I understand,
have attributed the fires to incendiaries, others have said they were
the work of disgruntled servants, others of an architect or contractor
who hasn't shared in the work and thinks he may later. I've even heard
it said that an insurance man may be responsible--hoping to get new
business, you know."

Gaskell looked at us keenly. Then he rose and approached us, raising his
finger as though cautioning silence.

"Do you know," he whispered so faintly that it was almost lost,
"sometimes I think there is a plot against me?"

"Against _you_?" whispered back Kennedy. "Why, what do you mean?"

"I can't tell you--here," he replied. "But, I believe there are
detectaphones hidden about this house!"

"Have you searched?" asked Kennedy keenly.

"Yes, but I've found nothing. I've gone over all the furniture and such
things. Still, they might be inside the walls, mightn't they?"

Kennedy nodded.

"Could you discover them if they were?" asked Gaskell.

"I think I could," replied Craig confidently.

"Then there's another peculiar thing," resumed Gaskell, a little more
freely, yet still whispering. "I suppose you know that I have a country
estate not far from my daughter?"

He paused. "Of course I know," he went on, watching Kennedy's face,
"that sparks are sometimes struck by horses' shoes when they hit stones.
But the shoes of my horses, for instance, out there lately have been
giving forth sparks even in the stable. My groom called my attention to
it, and I saw it myself."

He continued looking searchingly at Kennedy. "You are a scientist," he
said at length.