“Good,” approved the Russian. “Where is the Japanese? Here, you----” The footman appeared from the library. Evidently the Russian had already given him minute instructions. He entered and picked up a tray from the table. “Mrs. Breese want nothing more?” “No,” replied the Russian. The footman bowed and obediently returned to the library with his tray. “Now I am left alone,” the Russian said to Smith. “I walk about. I am quite upset by the words of Mr. Thomas. I do not know what to do. My vanity is hurt. The telephone rings. Mr. Rice!” The promoter appeared from the library. He watched the Russian tolerantly. “Mr. Rice,” commanded the Russian briskly, “you are at the ministry. You are talking over the telephone with Mrs. Breese. Stand where you are, and I shall stand here. I say ‘Hello.’” “Well, it’s sort of hard to repeat the exact words,” Rice complained. “But I’ll do my best. Something like this: ‘Hello, Dora, how are you?’” “Excellent, Mr. Rice. You are our best actor. ‘Hello, Gordon.’” “‘Dora, I’ve some bad news for you.’ “‘What is it?’ “‘Are you alone?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘I’ve just gotten a check from the bank. It’s made out to Thomas and your signature is forged to it.’ “‘I can’t believe it.’ “As a matter of fact,” Rice interrupted, “she said much more than that. She railed at me considerably for libelling Mr. Thomas. Finally I said: ‘Well, you can see for yourself. I left the check and the letter from the bank teller on the table in the drawing-room!’ “‘Very well. Hold the wire. I’ll see.’ “Then I waited,” said Rice. “‘I can’t find it,’” the Russian suggested. “‘That’s funny. I put the check and a letter on the table, addressed to you. Thomas must have found it.’ “‘I don’t believe a word of it!’” “What’s that?” said Rice, looking up startled. “I was playing my part,” the Russian smiled. “Then, I presume, Mrs. Breese hung up suddenly, as startled people will. Good!” He swung around to us. “Now I am left alone once more. I am further distressed. I don’t know what to do. Mr. Breese! Where are you?” “Right outside the door,” the financier replied. “Come in.” The Russian suddenly fell to the floor. The door opened. Breese looked down and started. “Come closer,” the Russian called without shifting. “This is how you found me.” “Yes,” said Breese huskily. “And then you ran out.” “Yes.” “Follow out your movements then, Mr. Breese. Go into the street. Just as you did that night.” Breese hurried out of the room. “Brandlock,” the Russian called to the butler, who hurried forward now. He looked slightly askance at the prone figure of Perutkin. “Come--come--don’t be a fool!” the Russian snapped at him. “You saw Mrs. Breese in this position. Run upstairs now as you did then and summon the children.” The butler shrugged his shoulders disdainfully but did as he was told. The Russian called out into the corridor: “Count, what do you see?”