"Barked up a wrong tree this time," he said, but the light of a great discovery shone in his eyes and his voice had an undercurrent of strong excitement. "This is not James Blake, but I can tell you who it is. Justice has simply been forestalled----" His face was grim and Mr. Narkom looked up into it almost breathless. "What is it, old chap; tell me?" he gasped. "What have you discovered?" Cleek smiled. "This man is the murderer of Elsie McBride, the old wardrobe seller of Crown Court, so her murder will not have gone long unavenged!" "But--how--are you sure?" said the startled Superintendent. "Quite sure, my friend," was the reply. "Whatever other disguises a man may assume, as we know, there is no escape from the irrefutable proof of finger-prints. Here----" He lifted up the dead hand, and with a magnifying glass in his own, brought the thumb before Mr. Narkom's gaze. "Now compare these thumb and finger marks with these which are a copy of those found on that dagger with which the poor woman was killed. You will see that they are identical. I'll nip off to town now and see whether I can get the other old woman down here to identify this man. I think, too, when we have discovered the motive for this murder we shall have gone far to have found out the reason why Lady Margaret was abducted. But that remains to be seen." And afterward, when the turn of events had crowded even more important matters from his mind, Mr. Maverick Narkom remembered these words. Meanwhile a search of the house had not revealed the hiding place of the famous jewels, and Mr. Shallcott, who was the first to come down and investigate after he had read the surprising facts in his morning paper, was full of remorse that they should have been lost. "I shall never forgive myself, Mr. Headland," he said, peering short-sightedly at that gentleman. "I might have known there was something wrong in the jewels being taken out like that, and if only I had persisted in seeing the poor child alone, all would have been well." Cleek laid a hand upon his arm and gave it a gentle pressure. "You could not help yourself, Mr. Shallcott," replied he, sympathetically, "and neither legally nor morally can you be held responsible. She was the victim of a deep-laid plot to effect their theft. As to the murder, I cannot say yet. We can only await the turn of events." Cleek himself felt a natural if morbid remorse for having so innocently placed Lady Margaret in the hands of the Pentacle Club. Accordingly, on the following day, when he was immersed in collecting his facts at the Hampton Arms, preparatory to going down to meet Mr. Narkom at the police station, he was greeted by the voice of Sir Edgar Brenton himself; he jumped up with pleasure and excitement in his voice.