Thinking things out was a process which brought little reward in this instance, and he went to bed that night a vexed and puzzled man. He always had his breakfast in bed at ten o'clock in the morning, for he had reached the age of habits and had fixed ten o'clock, since it gave his clerks time to bring down his personal mail from the office to his private residence. It was a profitable mail, it was an exciting mail, and it contained an element of rich promise, for it included a letter from Constable Wiseman: DEAR SIR: Re our previous conversation, I have just come across one of the photographs of the young lady--Sergeant Smith's daughter. It was given to the private detective who was searching for her. It was given to my wife by her cousin, and I send it to you hoping it may be of some use. Yours respectfully, PETER JOHN WISEMAN. The photograph was wrapped in a piece of tissue paper, and Saul Arthur Mann opened it eagerly. He looked at the oblong card and gasped, for the girl who was depicted there was the girl he had seen on the steps of 69 Flowerton Road. A telephone message prepared Frank for the news, and an hour later the two men were together in the office of the bureau. "I am going along to that house to see the girl," said Saul Arthur Mann. "Will you come?" "With all the pleasure in life," said Frank. "Curiously enough, I am as eager to find her as you. I remember her very well, and one of the quarrels I had with my uncle was due to her. She had come up to the house on behalf of her father, and I thought uncle treated her rather brutally." "Point number one cleared up," thought Saul Arthur Mann. "Then she disappeared," Frank went on, "and Jasper came on the scene. There was some association between this girl and Jasper, which I have never been able to fathom. All I know is that he took a tremendous interest in her and tried to find her, and, so far as I remember, he never succeeded." Mr. Mann's car was at the door, and in a few minutes they were deposited before the prim exterior of Number 69. The door was opened by a girl servant, who stared from Saul Arthur Mann to his companion. "There is a lady living here," said Mr. Mann. He produced the photograph. "This is the lady?" The girl nodded, still staring at Frank. "I want to see her." "She's gone," said the girl. "You are looking at me very intently," said Frank. "Have you ever seen me before?" "Yes, sir," said the girl; "you used to come here, or a gentleman very much like you. You are Mr. Merrill." "That is my name," smiled Frank, "but I do not think I have ever been here before." "Where has the lady gone?" asked Saul Arthur. "She went last night. Took all her boxes and went off in a cab." "Is anybody living in the house?" "No, sir," said the girl. "How long have you been in service here?" "About a week, sir," replied the girl.