"The girl must know," says the guv'nor--"this girl he picks up in St. James's Park, and goes dancing with. The man must have been some friend of hers." "But we can't find her either," she says. "He doesn't even know her name--he can't remember it." "You will do it, won't you?" she says. "Do what?" says the guv'nor again. "The fourteen days," she says. "But I thought you said he was going to do it himself?" he says. "But he mustn't," she says. "Miss Bulstrode is coming round to see you. Think of it! Think of the headlines in the papers," she says. "Think of the Fabian Society. Think of the Suffrage cause. We mustn't let him." "What about me?" says the guv'nor. "Doesn't anybody care for me?" "You don't matter," she says. "Besides," she says, "with your influence you'll be able to keep it out of the papers. If it comes out that it was Mr. Parable, nothing on earth will be able to." The guv'nor was almost as much excited by this time as she was. "I'll see the Fabian Society and the Women's Vote and the Home for Lost Cats at Battersea, and all the rest of the blessed bag of tricks--" I'd been thinking to myself, and had just worked it out. "What's he want to take his cook down with him for?" I says. "To cook for him," says the guv'nor. "What d'you generally want a cook for?" "Rats!" I says. "Does he usually take his cook with him?" "No," answered Miss Dorton. "Now I come to think of it, he has always hitherto put up with Mrs. Meadows." "You will find the lady down at Fingest," I says, "sitting opposite him and enjoying a recherche dinner for two." The guv'nor slaps me on the back, and lifts Miss Dorton out of her chair. "You get on back," he says, "and telephone to Miss Bulstrode. I'll be round at half-past twelve." Miss Dorton went out in a dazed sort of condition, and the guv'nor gives me a sovereign, and tells me I can have the rest of the day to myself. Mr. Condor, Junior, considers that what happened subsequently goes to prove that he was right more than it proves that he was wrong. Mr. Condor, Junior, also promised to send us a photograph of himself for reproduction, but, unfortunately, up to the time of going to press it had not arrived. * * * From Mrs. Meadows, widow of the late Corporal John Meadows, V.C., Turberville, Bucks, the following further particulars were obtained by our local representative: I have done for Mr. Parable now for some years past, my cottage being only a mile off, which makes it easy for me to look after him. Mr. Parable likes the place to be always ready so that he can drop in when he chooses, he sometimes giving me warning and sometimes not. It was about the end of last month--on a Friday, if I remember rightly--that he suddenly turned up.