"If Calvert is the man who killed Flora Brand, yes," said Bocaros, and with a grim smile he departed. Jasher looked after him and shrugged his shoulders. "I must keep you in order," said he to himself, "or you will spoil the whole thing." But however little the detective may have trusted Bocaros, he made use of the information he had received. At three o'clock the next day he went to ask if Calvert was at home. But he did not make the inquiry until he saw Calvert drive away in a cab. Mrs. Varney appeared with her ingratiating smile, and assured him that the young man was out. "He has gone to Troy," said Mrs. Varney, "but of course we know what that means. A handsome young lady, Mr. Jasher." "Hullo!" said the detective, starting; "and how do you come to know my name, ma'am?" "Oh,"--Mrs. Varney tossed her head in a light-comedy way--"my sister knows the professor, and the professor knows you. The fact is----" "Oh, that's all right. The professor (and a nice gentleman he is, though but a foreigner) told me of his weakness." "Weakness, indeed!" This time Mrs. Varney frowned as a tragedy-queen. "Professor Bocaros ought to be proud of having a handsome young lady like my sister admiring him." "Well," said Jasher, who wished to get an interview with Miss Doon, and guessed the right way to go about the matter, "he is a man who will be able to give her a good position." "Do you know everything about him?" asked the landlady eagerly. "Everything. I am his man of business," lied Mr. Jasher. "Oh!" She looked longingly at the detective, not suspecting his real profession. "Won't you come inside for a few minutes. My sister is with me, and I am sure she would be pleased to meet Mr. Bocaros's man of business. When she marries him she will naturally be brought much into contact with you." "I fear I am too busy, ma'am," said the man, playing his fish. "Oh, but do come in," pleaded Mrs. Varney. "Well, then, for five minutes," said Jasher, and this was how he came in a short time to be seated in a cosy parlour opposite to a tall, bold-looking young woman, with a hard mouth and big eyes almost as large and black as the professor's own. She resembled her sister in looks, and was scarcely less theatrical. After expressing her pleasure at seeing Jasher, and being determined--as he soon saw--not to let him go until she knew everything about Bocaros, she invited him to a cup of tea. Mrs. Varney went out to get the tea, and Jasher found himself being pumped by Miss Doon. "I met the professor quite casually," she said, "having been insulted by a man one evening in the Nightingales' Walk. I cried for help, and the professor smote the ruffian to the earth. Then he asked me into his rustic home, and was quite the gentleman. We have been quite the best of friends for over a year," sighed Miss Doon sentimentally, "and lately he has given me to understand that he desires a nearer and dearer tie." "Why don't you marry him, then?"