The maid appeared with the tray and hot water. Drew took the cup from Loris with a bow. He allowed the tea to cool as he glanced at the two lovers. They had grown closer together over the time of the investigation. Nichols had that poise which is given to well-trained army men. He never said too much. This was a trait which pleased the detective immensely. It spoke volumes for Loris and her judgment in placing her trust in him. "I actually hate to leave you people," Drew said, finishing the cup. "But I must be on my way." Loris arched her dark brows. Her mouth parted into a soft smile. Her eyes glistened with moisture. "Harry is going, too," she said, glancing from Drew to Nichols. "He has to go! I'll sleep upstairs in mother's old room to-night. The maid can watch. Perhaps the butler will be back." "He'll be back!" ejaculated the detective, adjusting his coat collar and stroking his mustache. "I'll see to that if I have to go over Fosdick's thick head. You can expect all of your servants within an hour." Heavy footfalls on the rugs outside the suite announced Delaney. He came through the portières rubbing his hands in the manner of a man who was well-satisfied with his errand. "I got them!" he boomed, glancing from Drew to Nichols and then letting his eyes shine on Loris. "I got Fosdick, first. I told him what I thought of him, too. I don't like him. Never did! He said he'd be right up and see about things. He can see!" The big operative swung toward his chief. "How about the coroner?" asked Drew. "He's coming as fast as his hurry-up wagon will let him. I told him there was another--well, you know what I told him, Chief?" The detective lifted his lowered brows. "Yes! Yes!" he said hastily, after a keen glance at Loris. "Yes. You did right. Now, get into the other room and gather up all of the tools and plaster-casts and every scrap of our own evidence. Put them in the trouble-man's satchel. Set the satchel outside the door to the hall. Then wait for me. I'll be but a minute." Delaney paused. "There's one thing," he said in a half stammer----"One thing, Chief, that's been troubling me while I was 'phoning to the coroner and to Fosdick." "What is it?" "If I can have that magpie? I'm going to give it to my wife--Mary--if I can. There's no bird in the house." Drew turned toward Loris who had drawn Nichols to a window. "Can he have it, Miss Stockbridge?" he asked. "Certainly!" "Thanks," throated the operative, passing through the portières with renewed energy. "Thanks," he added under his breath as he started picking up the plaster casts and tools. "That's how we caught 'Cutbert,' and I'll nurse the bird like a Grand Opera singer." Loris glided from out the curtains and crossed the room. She stood a moment under a cone of soft light which reflected downward and brought out every detail of her gown and girlish figure. She turned and smiled widely at Drew who stood by the portières.