"Yes, sir. I had ventured to do so, sir. I think that's all, except that Mr. Snooks is glad to accept your kind invitation to dinner and bridge to-night. Will you wear the hair-spring coat, sir, or the metal clip?" Lionel made no answer. He sat plunged in thought. When he spoke it was about another matter. "Masters," he said, "I have found out Lord Fairlie's secret at last. I shall go to see him this afternoon." "Yes, sir. Will you wear your revolver, sir, as it's a first call?" "I think so. If this comes off, Masters, it will make our fortune." "I hope so, I'm sure, sir." Masters placed the whisky within reach and left the room silently. Alone, Lionel picked up his paper and turned to the Agony Column. As everybody knows, the Agony Column of a daily paper is not actually so domestic as it seems. When "Mother" apparently says to "Floss," "Come home at once. Father gone away for week. Bert and Sid longing to see you," what is really happening is that Barney Hoker is telling Jud Batson to meet him outside the Duke of Westminster's little place at 3 a.m. precisely on Tuesday morning, not forgetting to bring his jemmy and a dark lantern with him. And Floss's announcement next day, "Coming home with George," is Jud's way of saying that he will turn up all right, and half thinks of bringing his automatic pistol with him too, in case of accidents. In this language--which, of course, takes some little learning--Lionel Norwood had long been an expert. The advertisement which he was now reading was unusually elaborate: "Lost, in a taxi between Baker Street and Shepherd's Bush, a gold-mounted umbrella with initials 'J. P.' on it. If Ellen will return to her father immediately all will be forgiven. White spot on foreleg. Mother very anxious and desires to return thanks for kind enquiries. Answers to the name of Ponto. _Bis dat qui cito dat._" What did it mean? For Lionel it had no secrets. He was reading the revelation by one of his agents of the skeleton in Lord Fairlie's cupboard! Lord Fairlie was one of the most distinguished members of the Cabinet. His vein of high seriousness, his lofty demeanour, the sincerity of his manner endeared him not only to his own party, but even (astounding as it may seem) to a few high-minded men upon the other side, who admitted, in moments of expansion which they probably regretted afterwards, that he might, after all, be as devoted to his country as they were. For years now his life had been without blemish. It was impossible to believe that even in his youth he could have sown any wild oats; terrible to think that these wild oats might now be coming home to roost. "What do you require of me?" he said courteously to Lionel, as the latter was shown into his study. Lionel went to the point at once.