“And I would have killed him if I had seen no other way. No, I didn’t think for a moment that you would give me away knowingly; but Tarleton is a past master in the art of sounding people and extracting information from them unawares. I only wanted to put you on your guard, lest you should think that you could trust him as a friend of mine.” “I certainly thought he was. He looked so kind and good,” Violet said thoughtfully. Perhaps I was a little irritated. “He impresses all women in that way,” I said with a touch of jealousy. “I could see that he admired you.” Violet’s eyes brightened. “I must try to make a friend of him. If I let him see that--that I should be sorry if any harm came to anyone through me, perhaps that may influence him.” I ought to have been very grateful, but I’m afraid my response was lacking in warmth. “Don’t tell him I have been here,” I said as I rose to go. And she smiled at me rather pathetically as she promised. I had a rather dismal lunch by myself, wondering what was passing at Lord Ledbury’s. When I saw Tarleton again I was staggered by his gay appearance. He had blossomed out in a new coat and a white waistcoat and a fancy tie. Most wonderful of all, the shabby black ribbon by which he was so fond of swinging his watch had been replaced by a brilliant gold chain that I had never seen before. It was evident that he had decked himself to make an impression in John Street. He had not long been back when we had another call from Captain Charles. He came in looking grave, and greeted my chief with increased respect. “I have been to Chancery Lane, as you advised, Sir Frank, and seen the principal. There is only one. The names in the advertisement are bogus ones, unless he bought the good-will of some old firm going out of business. The man’s real name is Stillman. I saw it on his notepaper. And he strikes me as hot stuff.” “What did he say?” “It was just what you expected. Made an excuse for not giving me Mrs. Baker’s letters. Said he was only authorized to hand them over to the writer in person. And when I asked who was instructing him, said he wasn’t authorized to give his client’s name.” Tarleton shrugged his shoulders. “Clever, very clever,” he repeated. “There’s nothing for you to take hold of, so far. If you go back again with Mrs. Baker you will put him in a corner, and very likely her letters will be given up, as they contain nothing serious. It’s a nasty business.” “What had we better do?” “Do nothing till you hear from me again. I am off to Paris to-night, and when I come back I shall know where the letters are, if I don’t bring them back with me.” The Inspector bowed himself out quite meekly. My curiosity prompted me to venture on a rash question. “Do you think it possible that Miss Neobard has the letters?” My chief swung himself slowly round in his chair and gave me a steady look, under which I quailed inwardly.