"He is very uncertain," Ruth answered. "He does newspaper reporting, and he sometimes has to work late." "Can you tell me what newspaper he is engaged upon?" "The _Signal_, for one," Ruth replied. Inspector Grant was silent for a moment. "The _Signal_ newspaper offices were seized by the police some days ago," he remarked. "Do you know of any other journal on which your uncle worked?" She shook her head. "He tells me very little of his affairs," she faltered. The inspector pointed backwards into the further corner of the apartment. "Do you often go into his room there?" he asked. "I have not been for months," Ruth assured him. "My uncle keeps it locked up. He told me that there had been some trouble at the office and he was printing something there." The inspector rose slowly to his feet. On the table by his side was a pile of articles covered over with a tablecloth. Very deliberately he removed the latter and looked keenly at Ruth. She shrank back with a little scream. There were half a dozen murderous-looking pistols there, a Mannerlicher rifle, and a quantity of ammunition. "What does your uncle need with these?" the inspector asked dryly. "How can I tell?" Ruth replied. "I have never seen one of them before. I never knew that they were in the place." "Nor I," Arnold echoed. "I have been a constant visitor here, too, and I have never seen firearms of any sort before." The inspector turned towards him. "Are you a friend of Isaac Lalonde?" he asked. "I am not," Arnold answered. "I am a friend of his niece here, Miss Ruth Lalonde. I know very little of Isaac, although I see him here sometimes." "I should like to know your name, if you have no objection," the inspector remarked. "My name is Chetwode," Arnold told him. "I occupy a room on the other side of the passage." "When did you last see Isaac Lalonde?" Arnold did not hesitate for a moment. What he had seen at Hampstead belonged to himself. He deliberately wiped out the memory of it from his thoughts. "On Thursday evening here." The inspector made a note in his pocket-book. Then he turned again to Ruth. "You can give me no explanation, then, as to your uncle's absence to-night?" "None at all. I can only say what I told you before--that I expected to find him here on my return." "Was he here when you left this morning?" "I believe so," Ruth assured him. "He very seldom comes out of his room until the middle of the day, and he does not like my going to him there. As we started very early, I did not disturb him." "Have you any objection," the inspector asked, "to telling me where you have spent the whole of to-day?" "Not the slightest," Arnold interposed. "We have been to Bourne End, and to a village in the neighborhood." The inspector nodded thoughtfully. Ruth leaned a little forward in her chair. Her voice trembled with anxiety. "Please tell me," she begged, "what is the charge against my uncle?"