"I went to the station to try and find out," said Olive, disconsolately; "but, although I saw the stationmaster and described the appearance, he could give no information. I believe they disguised themselves." "Well, it doesn't matter much," said Aldean, soothingly; "we have the money and their confession. Let 'em go, if they want to." "How did they get away without money? They said they had none." "Another lie, I suppose," said Aldean, sagaciously; "must have had some coin somewhere. Don't you bother, Miss Bellairs; we're done with them--yes! and with Semberry too. Look here," and Aldean produced a packet of papers from his inside pocket. "Here's the Major's confession." "Did he confess?" gasped Olive, taking the papers. "Rather. What's more, he wrote out his confession, and I stood over him until he did. There it is, signed by him, witnessed by me, and giving a full account of the conspiracy from first to last." "Wonderful! However did you manage it?" "I threatened him with the War Office," replied Aldean, complacently; "told him that Boldini had owned up; and let him see that I knew quite enough to have him cashiered, if nothing else." "Then he didn't show fight, as you expected?" "Oh yes, he did. He blustered about his name and position. But I told him I'd take 'em both from him if he didn't own up. In the end he did. You have the gist of it in your hand. He'd have wrung my neck if I hadn't told him I'd wring his if he tried that game. First-class fighting man the Major." "And what is all this?" asked Olive, with a glance at the sartorial chaos. "Oh, this is Carson's chest, which Semberry was bringing over to Boldini. I made him give it to me; and for the last half hour I have been hunting for papers and things to see if I could find out anything of importance." "And you have found nothing?" "Yes; a secret hiding-place. Look at it, Miss Bellairs. Clever thing, isn't it? Found it by chance. Only a letter in it addressed to Mr. Brock." Olive took the letter and read the inscription. "It's from Dr. Carson, I suppose," she said, turning it over. "I wonder what's in it?" "Don't know! Can't be anything about the murder if Carson, senior, wrote it. If we are to believe Boldini and Semberry, the whole scheme was invented by Drabble and this Madame Death-in-Life." "And which of them killed poor Carson?" "Ah!" Jim shook his head gravely. "That is just the one thing Semberry could not tell me. He doesn't know." CHAPTER IV. "ANOTHER PORTION OF THE CONSPIRACY."