“The next day I again found it necessary to use the cab in going to the house of my client, and, as I passed my own dwelling, I was somewhat nettled to see the same military-looking gentleman ascending the steps. “I looked at the time—it was ten exactly, the same hour as on the preceding day. “Again, that evening, I gave Lillian the opportunity to tell me of her visitor, but she made no mention of it. “Eric, the demon of jealousy had his birth in my heart in that bitter hour—my wife had a secret from me—she was receiving clandestinely a gentleman whom I did not even know. “I battled with the fever, heaven knows how terribly, but it conquered me, and although I despised myself for doing so despicable an act I set about watching Lillian.” The large man buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud in his suffering. CHAPTER III THE TELL-TALE SCRAP OF PAPER Darrell had by this time come to the conclusion that he was entering upon one of the oddest cases in his experience. He had his sympathies aroused also, and while he generally worked for conviction, in this instance it would be otherwise, his desire being to prove the parties innocent. Presently Leslie went on: “I pretended to go to my office, but, instead, hovered in the neighborhood, sometimes in the drug-store on the corner. “Thus I have discovered that regularly every morning at ten o’clock, Saturday omitted, this fine-looking foreign gentleman enters my house, and the door closes behind him. “At eleven he appears again—it is always my wife who lets him in and sees him to the door. “Eric, this thing is killing me—sooner than believe Lillian could be false to me I would discredit my own mother; and yet here is something very, very strange—something that must be explained before my peace of mind comes back to me again. In a few words, I want you to find out who this man is, and why he calls to see my wife invariably at ten o’clock when I am supposed to be down-town money-making, and why she has never breathed one syllable of all this to me.” “I will do it, Joe, for old friendship’s sake, and I most heartily pray it may turn out all right.” “Oh! I haven’t any doubt of that. My dear fellow, don’t imagine for an instant that I suspect my wife of anything wrong, but—well, you see—hang it, Eric, I must know the truth, and if my thoughts have wronged Lillian I shall go down on my knees before the little woman.” On his part, Mr. Darrell had, while Joe was speaking, conceived a sudden idea that would possibly explain the matter. He did not mention it, because the explanation hinged upon his other client’s case, but he kept it in mind all the same. It was to this effect: Perhaps Lillian had sought the advice of some other detective before coming to him, and it was this party calling at a certain hour every day to deliver his report, whom Joe had seen.