"The cunning old fox," murmured Labar, with almost affectionate admiration, as he replaced the receiver. "He doesn't want to know too much. That means I'm to be the goat if things don't pan out." He ripped open a letter that lay upon his desk. "SIR,--In accordance with your instructions, I made inquiries at the Bank of England, and was informed that the note No. K002947 was one of a series issued to the Midland Bank a week ago. From the Midland Bank I learn that this was one of ten notes numbered consecutively K002946 to K002955, paid to honour a cheque drawn by Mr. S. Gertstein, of Streetly House, W., three days ago. On inquiry at the London County Council Record Department I was informed that the registration number, X20008, is that of a car belonging to the same person. "Yours faithfully, "J. S. BYRON." He laid down the note absently. "I was afraid so. A nice girl, too. Well, nice girls do go wrong. Let's see what Gertstein has to say about it." He reached for the telephone and got put through to Streetly House. A matter of minutes elapsed before he was in touch with the millionaire, and he drummed impatiently on his desk. At last an irritable voice reached him. Labar spoke silkily. "Sorry to bother you again, Mr. Gertstein. This is Labar speaking--Detective Inspector Labar. In the list of stuff stolen there is no mention of cash. Is there any money missing?" "If there had been I should have told you, Inspector," snapped Gertstein. "This is important. You have not lost any bank notes?" "I've told you, no. I never keep enough cash in the house to bother about." A smothered exclamation escaped Labar. "But," he urged, "you changed a cheque for a thousand pounds a day or two ago." "I did nothing of the sort," snorted Gertstein. "What thing are you dreaming about now? I haven't had a thousand pounds in cash for my own personal use for years." "Ah, well," said Labar, mildly. "Perhaps I've made a mistake. I'll hope to see you in the morning and explain. Good-bye."