"Mr. Kitson has told me about van Heerden," she said quietly. "Isn't it rather a matter for the English police to deal with? As I have reason to know," she shivered slightly, "Doctor van Heerden is a man without any fear or scruple." "My scruples hardly keep me awake at night," he said, "and I guess I'm not going to let up on van Heerden. I look upon it as my particular job." "Isn't it"--she hesitated--"isn't it rather dangerous?" "For me?" he laughed, "no, I don't think so. And even if it were in the most tragic sense of the word dangerous, why, that would save you a great deal of unpleasantness." "I think you are being horrid," she said. "I am sorry," he responded quickly, "I was fishing for a little pity, and it was rather cheap and theatrical. No, I do not think there is very much danger. Van Heerden is going to keep under cover, and he is after something bigger than my young life." "Is Milsom with him?" "He is the weak link in van Heerden's scheme," Beale said. "Somehow van Heerden doesn't strike me as a good team leader, and what little I have seen of Milsom leads me to the belief that he is hardly the man to follow the doctor's lead blindly. Besides, it is always easier to catch two men than one," he laughed. "That is an old detective's axiom and it works out." She put out her hand. "It's a tangled business, isn't it?" she said. "I mean us. Don't let it add to your other worries. Forget our unfortunate relationship until we can smooth things out." He shook her hand in silence. "And now I am coming out to hear all that you clever people suggest," she said. "Please don't look alarmed. I have been talking all the afternoon and have been narrating my sad experience--such as I remember--to the most important people. Cabinet Ministers and police commissioners and doctors and things." "One moment," he said. He took from his pocket a stout book. "I was wondering what that was," she laughed. "You haven't been buying me reading-matter?" He nodded, and held the volume so that she could read the title. "'A Friend in Need,' by S. Beale. I didn't know you wrote!" she said in surprise. "I am literary and even worse," he said flippantly. "I see you have a shelf of books here. If you will allow me I will put it with the others." "But mayn't I see it?" He shook his head. "I just want to tell you all you have said about van Heerden is true. He is a most dangerous man. He may yet be dangerous to you. I don't want you to touch that little book unless you are in really serious trouble. Will you promise me?" She opened her eyes wide. "But, Mr. Beale----?" "Will you promise me?" he said again. "Of course I'll promise you, but I don't quite understand." "You will understand," he said. He opened the door for her and she passed out ahead of him. Kitson came to meet them. "I suppose there is no news?" asked Stanford.