“Of course it isn’t Ray,” said Dick, laying his hand on hers. “This brute tried to frighten you. When did he say the execution had been fixed for?” “To-morrow.” She was weeping; now that the tension had relaxed, it seemed that she had reached the reserve of her strength. “Ray is probably on the Continent,” Dick soothed her, and here Elk thought it expedient and delicate to steal silently forth. He was not as convinced as Gordon that the Frog had made a bluff. No sooner was he in his office than he rang for his new clerk. “Records,” he said briefly. “I want particulars of a man named Carter, now lying under sentence of death in Gloucester Prison—photograph, finger-prints, and record of the crime.” The man was gone ten minutes, and returned with a small portfolio. “No photograph has been received yet, sir,” he said. “In murder cases we do not get the full records from the County police until after the execution.” Elk cursed the County police fluently, and addressed himself to the examination of the dossier. That told him little or nothing. The height and weight of the man tallied, he guessed, with Ray’s. There were no body marks and the description “Slight beard——” He sat bolt upright. Slight beard! Ray Bennett had been growing a beard for some reason. He remembered that Broad had told him this. “Pshaw!” he said, throwing down the finger-print card. “It is impossible!” It was impossible, and yet—— He drew a telegraph pad toward him and wrote a wire. “Governor, H.M. Prison, Gloucester. Very urgent. Send by special messenger prison photograph of James Carter under sentence of death in your prison to Headquarters Records. Messenger must leave by first train. Very urgent.” He took the liberty of signing it with the name of the Chief Commissioner. The telegram despatched, he returned to a scrutiny of the description sheet, and presently he saw a remark which he had overlooked. “Vaccination marks on right forearm.” That was unusual. People are usually vaccinated on the left arm, a little below the shoulder. He made a note of this fact, and turned to the work that was waiting for him. At noon a wire arrived from Gloucester, saying that the photograph was on its way. That, at least, was satisfactory; though, even if it proved to be Ray, what could be done? In his heart Elk prayed most fervently that the Frog had bluffed. Just before one, Dick telephoned him and asked him to lunch with them at the Auto Club, an invitation which, in any circumstances, was not to be refused, for Elk had a passion for visiting other people’s clubs. When he arrived—on this occasion strictly on time—he found the girl in a calm, even a cheerful mood, and his quick eye detected upon her finger a ring of surprising brilliance that he had not seen before. Dick Gordon had made very good use of his spare time that morning.