“They don’t take them in from outside,” he said with a smile, and the inspector very rarely smiled. “Otherwise, Mr. Beardmore, we should have taken you! No, our friend is clever. I suppose you don’t expect a head-quarters’ man to admit that what we call a ‘fancy’ detective can be anything but an interfering fool? But Yale is clever.” They had strolled together to the window, and were looking out into the sedate street in which Jack Beardmore’s residence was situated. “Isn’t that Miss Drummond?” he asked suddenly. Parr had already seen her. She was walking slowly along the other side of the road, looking at the numbers of the houses. Presently she crossed. “She’s coming here,” gasped Jack. “I wonder what----” He did not wait to finish what he had to say, but rushed out of the room and opened the hall door to her whilst her finger was lingering on the bell push. “It is good to see you, Thalia,” he said, gripping her warmly by the hand. “Won’t you come in? An old acquaintance of yours is in the dining-room.” She raised her eyebrows. “Not Mr. Parr?” “You’re a wonderful guesser,” laughed Jack as he closed the door behind her. “Did you want to see me alone?” he asked suddenly. She shook her head. “No; I’ve only a message for you from Mr. Yale. He wanted you to let him have the key of your riverside house.” By this time they were in the dining-room, and the girl, meeting the expressionless gaze of Mr. Parr, nodded curtly. “You evidently do not love my friend, Mr. Parr,” thought Jack. He explained the object of the girl’s visit. “My poor father had a derelict property by the riverside,” he said. “It has not been tenanted for years, and the surveyors tell me it will cost almost as much as the property is worth to put it into repair. For some reason Yale thinks that Brabazon will use this as a hiding-place. Brabazon had it in his hands for some time, trying to sell it. He looked after some of my father’s property. But is he at all likely to be there?” Mr. Parr pursed his large lips and blinked meditatively. “The only thing I know about him is that so far he has not left the country,” he said at last. “I should not think he’d go to a house which he must know would be searched.” He stared absently at Thalia. “Yet he might,” he mused. “I suppose he has a key to the place. What is it, a house?” “It is half house and half warehouse,” said Jack. “I have never seen it, but I believe it is one of those dwellings which the old merchants favoured two hundred years ago, in the days when they lived in the places where they carried on business.” He unlocked his desk and pulled out a drawer full of keys, each bearing a label. “This is the one, I think, Miss Drummond,” he said, handing the key to her. “How do you like your new job?” It required some courage to ask the question, for he was almost awestricken in her presence. She smiled faintly.