Alan feels the perspiration start upon his brow, while he utters a mental, "Heaven forbid!" "Now then," resumes Mr. Grip, throwing himself back in his chair and stretching his legs underneath the table; "now then, _here_ we go. Daisy Warburton is her father's heiress. Remove her, the bulk of property probably goes to second wife--_step mother_, d'ye see? Remove _her_, property comes down to _you_." "Stop, sir! How dare you--preposterous!" And Alan Warburton pushes back his chair and rises, an angry flush upon his face. Mr. Grip rises also. Stepping nimbly out from between the big chair and the table before it, he inserts his two hands underneath his two coat tails, bends his head forward, raising himself from time to time on the tips of his toes as he talks, and replies suavely: "Ta ta; I'm _reasoning_. They have _not_ both disappeared, have they? The lady in question is in the house at this present moment, is she not?" "She is," replied Alan, beginning to feel most uncomfortable. "She is. Well, now, if _she_ should disappear, _then_ suspicion might point to you. As it is--ahem--" Here Alan fancies that Mr. Grip is watching him furtively. "As it is--we will begin to investigate." [Illustration: "Stop, sir! How dare you--preposterous!"--page 274.] Mr. Grip reseats himself, folds away his memoranda, and, reclining once more at his ease, looks up at Alan coolly. "First, Mr. Warburton, I must see your sister-in-law." Alan cannot restrain his start of surprise, nor the look of anxiety that crosses his face. "Not at present," he says, after a moment's hesitation. "She is ill; it would--" "So much the better," interrupts the detective. "Worn out, no doubt; nervous. May surprise something. _I must see her_, and every other member of this household, myself unseen." "Ah!" thinks Alan, his hands clenching themselves involuntarily, "if I dared throw you out of the window!" And then, with a shade more of haughtiness than he had as yet used in addressing this man, who was fast becoming his tormentor, he asks: "Mr. Grip, is this so very necessary?" Slowly the detective leans forward; slowly he raises a warning forefinger. "My _dear_ sir," he says impressively, "if you want to catch a thief will you say, 'come here, my dear, and be arrested?' _No, sir_; you catch her _unawares_. Tell that fine lady that she is to be interviewed by a detective, and, presto! she shuts her secrets up behind a mantle of smiles or sneers. Call her in, and lead her to talk; I'll employ my eyes and ears. Use the cues set down here--" he extends to Alan a folded slip of paper. "Put her at her ease, and leave the rest to me. Now then--" Again he rises, and this time he begins a slow survey of the room.