Truth to tell, my suspicion of Lionel Eastwell had daily increased. First, he had always appeared far too inquisitive regarding our experimental work. Secondly, he had been ever polite and affable towards Roseye with a view, it seemed, of preserving an extremely close friendship. Why, I wondered? I knew that she had liked him for his courtesy and pleasant demeanour ever since they had first met. And the point that they had first met in Germany I had never forgotten. It had increased my suspicion--and pointedly so. The most puzzling fact concerning him, however, was that I had discovered during my eager and constant investigations, from one of the boys at Hendon--Dick Ferguson, who was flying a new REP "Parasol," that on the very evening of the day that I had called at Albemarle Street to find him ill in bed, he had met him in Hatchett's in Piccadilly, and had actually dined with him there in the grill-room. When I had sat at Eastwell's bedside, three hours before, he had then declared himself unable to move without pain, and had told me that the doctor had strictly forbidden him to get up. Yet, on that very same night, he had dined down below in the cheerful grill-room and, according to Dick, was as merry as ever. These were facts which certainly required explanation. Why had he not gone along to the Piccadilly Hotel, or to the Club, as was his habit? Was it because, fearing to be seen, he had chosen the smaller and quieter resort? Most probably he feared to meet either Teddy or myself at the Piccadilly, for we both frequently went there as a change from the Automobile Club. We flying-men are a small circle, and we have our own particular haunts--just as every other profession has. Three times I had questioned Dick Ferguson regarding Lionel's presence at that small, but popular restaurant on that particular night. At first I believed that he had probably mistaken the date--which was so easy. But he had fixed it absolutely by telling me that it was the night when the Admiralty had admitted that Zeppelins had again been over Essex and Norfolk and been driven back by our anti-aircraft guns. Certainly I had no reason to doubt Dick's story. He was a pal of Teddy's, and I had been up with him twice on his new "Parasol"--that machine which Hendon men will remember as having caused such a sensation. How flying has changed since the war! In the pre-war days those Sunday meetings out at Hendon, with their passenger-flights, were quite smart frivolous gatherings. In the enclosure stood rows of fine cars with many young "bloods"--who afterwards gallantly put on khaki--with many of their best girls, some of them of the bluest blood of the land, while others were revue actresses, with a few women aged, apeing and adipose, with of course a good sprinkling of girls on the keen look out for husbands.