“I’ll look in again to see Cawdor,” he remarked--“to-morrow, perhaps, or the next day.” “I’ll let him know if I see him about,” Peter Ruff declared. “Sorry the lift’s stopped. Three steps to the left and straight on. Good-night!” Miss Brown arrived early the following morning, and was disposed to be inquisitive. “I should like to know,” she said, “exactly what has become of Mr. Vincent Cawdor.” Peter Ruff took her upstairs. There was a little mound of ashes in the grate. She nodded. “I imagined that,” she said. “But why did you send me out to watch yourself?” “My dear Violet,” Peter Ruff answered, “there is no man in the world to-day who is my equal in the art of disguising himself. At the same time, I wanted to know whether I could deceive you. I wanted to be quite sure that my study of Mr. Vincent Cawdor was a safe one. I took those rooms in his name and in his own person. I do not think that it occurred even to our friend John Dory to connect us in his mind.” “Very well,” she went on. “Now tell me, please, what took you up to Westmoreland?” “I followed Rounceby and Marnstam,” he answered, “I knew them when I was abroad, studying crime--I could tell you a good deal about both those men if it were worth while--and I knew, when they hired a big motor car and engaged a crook to drive it, that they were worth following. I saw the trial of the flying machine, and when they started off with young Franklin, I followed on a motor bicycle. I fished him out of the tarn where they left him for dead, brought him on to London, and made my own terms with him.” “What about the body which was found in the Longthorp Tarn?” she asked. “I had that telegram sent myself,” Peter Ruff answered. She looked at him severely. “You went out of your way to make a fool of John Dory!” she said, frowning at him. “That I admit,” he answered. “It seems to me,” she continued, “that that, after all, has been the chief object of the whole affair. I do not see that we--that is the firm--profit in the least.” Peter Ruff chuckled. “We’ve got a fourth share in the Franklin Flying Machine,” he answered, “and I’m hanged if I’d sell it for a hundred thousand pounds.” “You’ve taken advantage of that young man’s gratitude,” she declared. Peter Ruff shook his head. “I earned the money,” he answered. CHAPTER IV. THE INDISCRETION OF LETTY SHAW Amidst a storm of whispered criticisms, the general opinion was that Letty Shaw was a silly little fool who ought to have known better. When she had entered the restaurant a few minutes before midnight, followed by Austen Abbott, every one looked to see a third person following them. No third person, however, appeared. Gustav himself conducted them to a small table laid for two, covered with pink roses, and handed his fair client the menu of a specially ordered supper. There was no gainsaying the fact that Letty and her escort proposed supping alone!