“I bear no malice. My movements are suspicious, but there is a good reason. As to the burglaries—I know nothing about them. I should say that in any case, whether I knew or not. I ask you not to mention this matter to my daughter, because—well, you don’t want me to tell you why.” Ella was standing at the garden gate when the car came up, and at the sight of Elk the smile left her face. Elk knew instinctively that the thought of her brother, and the possibility of his being in trouble, were the causes of her apprehension. “Mr. Elk came down to ask me a few questions about the attack on Mr. Gordon,” said her father briefly. Whatever else he was, thought Elk, he was a poor and unconvincing liar. That the girl was not convinced, he was sure. When they were alone she asked: “Is anything wrong, Mr. Elk?” “Nothing, miss. Just come down to refresh my memory—which was never a good one, especially in the matter of dates. The only date I really remember is the landing of William the Conqueror—1140 or thereabouts. Brother gone back to town?” “He went last night,” she said, and then, almost defiantly: “He is in a good position now, Mr. Elk.” “So they tell me,” said Elk. “I wish he wasn’t working in the same shop as the bunch who are with him. I’m not letting him out of my sight. Miss Bennett,” he said in a kinder tone. “Perhaps I’ll be able to slip in the right word one of these days. He wouldn’t listen now if I said ‘get!’—he’s naturally in the condition of mind when he’s making up press cuttings about himself. And in a way he’s right. If you don’t know it all at twenty-one you never will. What’s that word that begins with a ‘z’?—‘zenith,’ that’s it. He’s at the zenith of his sure-and-certainness. From now on he’ll start unloading his cargo of dreams an’ take in ballast. But he’ll hate to hear the derricks at work.” “You talk like a sailor,” she smiled in spite of her trouble. “I was that once,” said Elk, “the same as old man Maitland—though I’ve never sailed with him—I guess he left the sea years before I was born. Like him?” “Mr. Maitland? No!” she shivered. “I think he is a terrible man.” Elk did not disagree. To Dick Gordon that morning he confessed his error. “I don’t know why I jumped at Bennett,” he said. “I’m getting young! I see the evening newspapers have got the burglary.” “But they do not know what was stolen,” said Dick in a low voice. “That must be kept secret.”