"Good God! I never was so glad to see anybody in my life, gentlemen," broke out young Drake as they appeared. "It's beyond the hour you asked for--ages beyond--and my nerves are almost pricking their way through my skin. Mr. Cleek--Mr. Narkom--speak up, for heaven's sake. Have you succeeded in finding out anything?" "We've done better than that, Mr. Drake," replied Cleek, "for we have succeeded in finding out everything. Look sharp there, Mr. Narkom, and shut that door. Lady Marjorie looks as if she were going to faint, and we don't want a whole houseful of servants piling in here. That's it. Back against the door, please; her ladyship seems on the point of crumpling up." "No, no, I'm not; indeed, I'm not!" protested Lady Marjorie with a forced smile and a feeble effort to hold her galloping nerves in check. "I am excited and very much upset, of course, but I am really much stronger than you would think. Still, if you would rather I should leave the room, Mr. Cleek----" "Oh, by no means, your ladyship. I know how anxious you are to learn the result of my investigations. And, by that token, somebody else is anxious, too--the doctor. Call him in, will you, Mr. Drake? He is still with the others in the Stone Drum, I assume." He was; and he came out of it with them at young Drake's call, and joined the party in the armoury. "Doctor," said Cleek, looking up as he came in, "we've got to the puzzle's unpicking, and I thought you'd be interested to hear the result. I was right about the substance employed, for I've found the stuff and I've nailed the guilty party. It was woorali, and the reason why there was no trace of a weapon was because the blessed thing melted. It was an icicle, my friend, an icicle with its point steeped in woorali, and if you want to know how it did its work--why, it was shot in there from the cross-bow hanging on the wall immediately behind me, and the person who shot it in was so short that a chair was necessary to get up to the bowman's slit when----No, you don't, my beauty! There's a gentleman with a noose waiting to pay his respects to all such beasts as you!" Speaking, he sprang with a sharp, flashing movement that was like to nothing so much as the leap of a pouncing cat, and immediately there was a yap and a screech, a yell and a struggle, a click of clamping handcuffs, and a scuffle of writhing limbs, and a moment later they that were watching saw him rise with a laugh, and stand, with his hands on his hips, looking down at Ojeebi lying crumpled up in a heap, with gyves on his wrists and panic in his eyes, at the foot of the guarded door.