“I see. Quite above suspicion, you would say, Mr. Dare?” “Oh quite. He hates Prussian Junkerdom as every Pole must.” The Inspector nodded acquiescingly, and they chatted on about the war and things in general till his cigar was finished and he got up to go. “I will ask you to keep all this absolutely to yourself, Mr Dare,” he said. “Not a word to anyone, if you please, sir.” “Certainly, Inspector. I’m afraid I’ve not been of much use to you. If you think of anything else----” “I’ll let you know, sir,” and Mr Dare saw him out of the front door, and returned to Scott and the South Pole. As for Inspector Gretton, he wandered off to have a closer look at the old-fashioned red-brick house on top of the hill. Just a week later he called again on Mr Dare, late one night, and, as before, found him all alone. The Colonel had suddenly, when apparently getting on well, developed pneumonia in the other lung and was in a very critical condition. Mrs Dare spent all her time at Oakdene in unremitting attendance on him, with every help that Lois and Auntie Mitt and Honor and Vic could render. The boys were sleeping in town that night as they had to be on early fatigue next morning. “Well, Inspector? Any success?” asked Mr Dare, as Gretton was shown in. “I’ve come to end the matter, Mr Dare. I thought perhaps you’d like to see the last act.” “Really? Got him. Who on earth is it?” “If you care to come with me I’ll show you, sir,” and Mr Dare got into his hat and coat in record time and went out with him. At the gate they were met and followed by half-a-dozen stalwarts in flat caps and overcoats, who in some subtle fashion conveyed the impression of law and order, armed not only with right but with other weapons of a more practically coercive nature. The roads were almost in darkness in accordance with recent orders, lest undue illumination should offer mark or direction for lurking menace up above. They turned into the road up the hill and came to the gate of Dr Rhenius’s old-fashioned red-brick house. “You don’t mean to say----” jerked Mr Dare in vast amazement. “Sh-h-h!” whispered the Inspector, pressing his arm. “See that tree!”--a huge elm towering a hundred feet high just inside the gate. “I’ve been up there every night since I called on you, with a pair of the strongest glasses made--Zeisses,” he said with a chuckle. “Your friend has visitors of a night and later on he gets busy.” Mr Dare was dumb. He could not take it all in. There was some grotesque mistake somewhere. “We’re a bit early yet,” said the Inspector. Then, adjusting his field-glasses and peering up at the house, “No, it’s all right. He’s at work in good time to-night.” He handed the glasses to Mr. Dare, and whispered, “Look at that chimney-stack. Get it against the Milky Way. See anything?” “I see the chimney.... Yes, and something like a flag-pole projecting above it....” “Exactly,--a wireless pole. We’ll catch them at it.”