There was nothing particularly striking about Ursula Yerbury, but her personality grew upon one. The moment we entered her small but comfortable sitting-room it was apparent to me that she was on her guard. She had expected some old school friend, and had been tricked. Quarles came to the point at once. To clear up the mystery of the sensational robbery in the city, he wanted to find Frederick Ewing. Miss Yerbury knew him, of course, and could no doubt supply the information. "You have had your journey in vain," she answered. "That is a pity," Quarles said, and in short, terse sentences he told her the history of the robbery, so far as we knew it, speaking of Ewing's dishonesty in a cold, matter-of-fact way, and giving reasons why Ewing should be suspected of helping a gang. "Now, my dear young lady, I'm an eccentric," he went on. "One petty theft does not make a criminal, and I do not believe Frederick Ewing is a criminal. But do not mistake me; if he cannot be found he will certainly be branded as one." "I do not know where he is," she answered firmly, though her lips quivered. "Still, you may know enough to help me to clear his name," said Quarles. "You mean--but he told me himself." "Ah, that is what I mean," said Quarles. "You can tell me something. Take my word for it, you will be doing Ewing a service by telling me what you know." The professor looked exceedingly benevolent, and his tone was persuasive. It was so necessary to obtain information that the means were justified--one cannot be sentimental in detective work--yet I pitied the woman. "You know that Mr. Ewing was dismissed from the bank--and why?" she said. Quarles nodded. "He did not tell me at first. He wrote to me, saying he had been sent out of town on business. I had no suspicion that anything was wrong. Some days later I received a telegram asking me to meet him near Victoria. It was then he told me of his dismissal. He had supposed that he would not be prosecuted, but the bank had, after all, decided to make an example of him. He had gone away to hide himself. A friend was helping him to get out of the country, and----" "Who was the friend?" asked Quarles. "Frederick would not say. He had promised not to tell anyone who he was; indeed, he had promised not to hold any communication with anyone. The latter promise he had broken by meeting me. We were--we are engaged. I would not take back my freedom. He will write to me presently, and then I shall join him wherever he is." "That was before the great robbery of the bank," said Quarles. "Days before," she answered. "And you do not know where he is now?" "No."