"why not?""well, I knew that he had gone out to Hendon, you see.""oh!" Delbury looked his surprise. "And how did you know that?" he asked.  "A man rang up---- somebody I've never seen or heard of before rang up and asked me if dad had got home yet from Hendon. That was the first I knew that he had not gone to bed all night." "What?" Delbury jumped. "A man rang up?" he snapped."Who was it?""I don't know. I'd tell you if I did. A coarsely spoken man; he referred himself as the gent from Notting hill."   "Good Lord! Tansy," breathed Delbury. "so that's where he got the wire from. miss Lyall, do you know that by answering that telephone you have let one of the worst criminals in London slip through our fingers?""I wasn't aware of it, but I couldn't help it even if I did. But in what way does all this concern my father? I think I have answered quite enough of your questions. And really I cannot tax my anx

"Give me that telephone," said Mercia quietly. "You're going to play the game straight---- by me?" Asked Delbury, with a searching look into her eyes. "I am going to play straight--- by my father," replied Mercia, in a voice so faint that the detective barely heard it. He surrendered the telephone in silence. "is that you, Mr. Dain? Mercia speaking. You wanted to speak to me," she said, striving to master the quiver in her voice."Yes, this is Valmon Dain, here," The voice at the other end was unemotional, almost coldly precise. Mercia felt an inward shudder at the cold austerity of it. Dain, even in the midst of tragedy, with the black shadow of the law looming great and omnipotent above him, was still the man of frosty restraint, the man with his thoughts and feelings under icy control. "I cannot talk to you personally," he went on steadily. "Something has happened which, were I to show myse

 Valmon Dain waited until the sound of Delbury's voice ceased in the study. All that came to him after that was the sound of quiet weeping, heart broken sobs that came gently over the whispering wires. And he knew that Delbury had gone.   He glanced at his watch.     "Time for a morsel of lunch," he muttered. "Delbury will be twenty minutes at the very least before he gets back to the Yard-probably half an hour before he's through to the chief."     He opened a glass of tongue and ate with his headphones still on. He had fixed up a little electric-cooker in a corner above one of the purring dynamos, not a very elaborate contraption but quite sufficient for the simple needs of a man who was condemning himself to solitary companionship for the next few weeks.      He made a mental note to take out a suitcase with him and lay in a safe supply of provisions. The ante-room outside he was already rearrangi

      The only break in the chain of silence was when, in a few seconds, the clear treble of the telephone girl's voice came on at the exchange with her businesslike               "Number please?"    Lazard pulled the instrument nearer to him.    "This is the Count Lazard speaking," he said suavely. "I'm sorry to trouble you, miss, but I think there must be something wrong with my telephone. Has anyone been trying to ring me up?"    "I couldn't remember offhand, sir, but I don't think so," replied the girl politely.     "Nobody has called me and failed to get through?"    "No, sir; not during the last hour, at least."     "Just one more question, miss. Could you tell me if there is a crossed wire on your switchboard-one which throws a connection across to my line from another exchange?"      "Just a moment, s

Lazard deftly charged the weapon with three small needles, which he took from a little gold ornament on his watch-fob. The needles were extremely thin, and about three-quarters of an inch long. They were wet when he lifted them from the little trinket, and he exercised scrupulous care in the way he handled them. He did not touch them with his fingers, but fed them into the tube with a pair of tweezers. Then he fitted a rubber shield over the trigger and slipped it back into his pocket. The cab was already half-way up Kingsway. He carefully wiped the gold trinket on a piece of cotton-wool, and burned the wool on the floor of the cab. It burned with a bright blue flame that flared up instantly, burned fiercely for a second, and as quickly died. He tapped the window, and the cab pulled in to the kerb. "I don't exactly know where Denburh House is, sir," said the driver apologetically. "All right; you've passed it. I'll walk back," said the Count, and paid him off