"I'm not able to argue with you, sir, and that's the truth," he said. "Neither do I want to be drawn into a squabble of this sort. Of course, I know nothing of any second marriage; but, even if I did, Miss Meg isn't a little girl, who might have forgotten her real father. Look here! I stick to my notion, and that's the long and the short of it. There's a mystery at Elmdale, and it's bound to come out, no matter what difference of opinion there may be between you and me." A parlormaid entered with a telegram. "Excuse me one moment," said Mr. Dobb; "that is, unless you wish to go!" he added. Walker was constrained to put on a bold front before the servant. "I can wait another couple of minutes," he said off-handedly. The lawyer smiled; but, for his own purposes, he did not wish to quarrel outright with his visitor. He opened the buff envelope, and read, and not even the experience of a lifetime served to mask the incredulous dismay which leaped to his face. For the message ran: "Have reason to believe that a gentleman passing under the name of Robert Armathwaite is in or near Nuttonby. Kindly make guarded inquiries and wire result.--SIGMATIC." Now, "Sigmatic" was the code address of a department of the India Office in which Mr. Dobb's eldest son held a responsible position. That phrase, "passing under the name of," suggested many possibilities to the legal mind. Moreover, the fact that a Government department was interested, and that the ordinary official channel for investigation was not employed, gave him furiously to think. In any event, he had been saved from the exceeding unwisdom of treating James Walker too cavalierly. "I'll just answer this, as the messenger is waiting," he said pleasantly. "If you're not in a hurry, Mr. Walker, sit down again. I'll send in a decanter of sherry and some cigarettes. Help yourself, will you?" He went out. James Walker grinned, and plunged his clenched fists into his trousers pockets. "That telegram knocked old Dobb into a cocked hat," he mused. "Wonder what was in it? Something to do with the Garths, I'll bet! Keep a steady hand on the reins, Jimmy, my boy, and you'll finish with the best of 'em yet!" CHAPTER XII THE DAWN OF A BLACK FRIDAY