"Thanks. In that case, I would ask you to keep a watch on the post-office for as long as you think worth while. This fellow will be pretty certain to call again in an hour or two for another wire. You may depend their correspondence has not finished with that first telegram." So that was settled; it was a toss-up whether or not anything would result from Wingate's observations. A little later one of the two men who were watching Hyde Park Mansions reported that Mrs Saxton had driven to Chesterfield Street, and remained in Monkton's house for some twenty minutes. Smeaton at once rang up Sheila Monkton, and obtained particulars of the brief interview, which confirmed his opinion that Farloe's attractive sister was engaged in some deep game. This opinion was further corroborated by the arrival of the detective he had sent down to St Albans at an early hour that morning. This man had scoured the neighbourhood on his motor-cycle within a radius of twelve miles from the city of St Albans. Nobody of the name of Stent was known, and so far as his information went, which he had picked up at various shops and local inns, nobody of that name had ever been a resident, at any rate within the last four or five or six years. Smeaton cursed Mrs Saxton heartily. A really innocent woman might have made a mistake. But he was sure in his own mind that this innocent-looking young person with the charming manners and the well-bred voice had deliberately put him on a wrong scent. And for what motive? Perhaps in order to gain time. Well, he had lost a few hours, but he intended to run Mr Stent to earth yet, without her assistance. CHAPTER EIGHT. THE MAN FROM BOUNDARY ROAD. Austin Wingate's feelings as he left the post-office in Brighton can easily be imagined. He had failed ignominiously in his mission, and the sarcastic young woman who had spoken so insolently to him was laughing at his discomfiture. It was some moments before he could sufficiently recover his composure to go to the nearest telephone--he did not dare to re-enter the post-office so soon--and communicate with Smeaton. He was fortified by the detective's request to remain at his post for some time longer, in the hope of turning a failure into something of a partial success. He lit a big cigar and prepared for a long vigil. He began to think there were certain discomforts attached to detective work. He found himself commiserating the two unfortunate creatures who had been appointed to keep watch at Hyde Park Mansions. He was better off than they in one important particular. They only worked for pay, not, probably, of a very munificent description. If he succeeded, he would not only earn the praises of Smeaton, but he would be rewarded with the tender light of gratitude in the beautiful eyes of his beloved Sheila. So he kept resolutely at his post, lounging up and down the street, with his glance ever alert for any likely stranger who should come along.