"Now," he said, "let us be off. We have no time to lose, and we must get to Beechcroft with the utmost speed." Winter and he entered the same hansom. "Why are you so anxious to prevent Capella and Ooma meeting, sir?" asked the detective, as their vehicle sped along Victoria Street. "I do not care whether they meet or not," was the emphatic reply. "It is now imperatively necessary that the Japanese should be placed where he can do no further harm. The man is a human tiger. He must be caged. If all goes well, Winter, this case will pass out of my hands into yours within the next three hours." The detective smiled broadly. At last he saw his way clearly, or thought he saw it, which is often not quite the same thing. In the present instance he little dreamed the nature of the path he would follow. But he was so gratified that he could not long maintain silence, though Brett was obviously disinclined to talk. "By Jove," he gurgled, "this will be the case of the year." The barrister replied not. "I suppose, Mr. Brett," continued Winter, with well-affected concern, "you will follow your usual policy, and decide to keep your connection with the affair hidden?" "Exactly, and you will follow your usual policy of claiming all the credit under the magic of the words 'from information received.'" Winter could afford to be generous. "Mr. Brett," he cried, "there is no man would be so pleased as I to see you come out of your shell, and tell the Court all you have done. You deserve it. It would be the proudest moment of your life." Then the barrister laughed. "You have known me for years, Winter," he said, "yet you believe that. Go to! You are incorrigible!" The detective did not trouble to extract the exact meaning from this remark. He understood that Brett would never think of entering the witness-box. That was all he wanted to know. "Are you quite certain," he asked, with a last tinge of anxiety in his voice, "that Ooma will be arrested to-day?" "Quite certain, if we can accomplish that highly desirable task." Winter pounded the door of the hansom with his clenched fist "Then it is done!" he cried. "I'll truss him up like a fowl. If he tries any tricks I'll borrow the leg-chains from Stowmarket police station." At Liverpool Street they all made a hasty meal. They caught the last train from London and passed two weary hours until Stowmarket was reached. There on the platform stood the station-master. He approached Brett and whispered: "A man who came here by the preceding train told me that you and some other gentlemen might possibly follow on. He intended to telegraph to you, but he asked me, in case you turned up, to tell you that the Japanese has gone on foot to Beechcroft, and that Mr. Capella has not arrived." "Not arrived!" cried Brett. He turned to Holden. "Can you have been mistaken?"