"Out of sheer terror, I believe, and that makes me think that his secret, for the preservation of which he robbed the dead, is more serious than we think. However I'll see what I can learn, and failing your father, I shall ask Giles Merry." "Do you think he knows?" "I fancy so. The parcel with the cross was addressed in his writing, so it is he who has the hand. He must have given it to the old scoundrel who called on me, so I think, Mr. Allen, we are justified in adding Merry to the gang." "But the hand must have been empty when my father buried it on the common, so how could Giles know his secret?" "I can only say that I don't understand," said Mask with a gesture of hopelessness; "wait till I get your father to speak out. Then we may learn the truth." "I dread to hear it," said the son gloomily. "Well," replied Mask in a comforting tone, "at all events we know it has nothing to do with this murder. It is your task to learn who committed that, and you may do so through Butsey." After this conversation Mr. Mask took Hill back to Wargrove, whither the old man went willingly enough. He seemed to think himself absolutely safe, when in the company of his legal adviser and old friend. Allen returned to his rooms, and sent a message to Mr. Horace Parkins that he would see him that afternoon. It was necessary that he should keep faith with his friend Mark Parkins in South America, and find a capitalist; and Allen thought that Horace, whom Mark reported shrewd, might know of some South African millionaire likely to float the mine in Bolivia. As to the search after Butsey, Allen had not quite made up his mind. He could learn of Butsey's whereabouts certainly, but if it was some low den where the lad lived, he did not want to go alone, and thought it might be necessary to enlist the service of a detective. For his father's sake, Allen did not wish to do so. But he must have some one to go with him into the depths of London slums, that was certain. Allen knew the life of the Naked Lands, and there could more than hold his own, but he was ignorant of the more terrible life of the submerged tenth's dens. It was at three o'clock that Allen appointed the meeting with Parkins, and at that hour precisely a cab drove up. In a few minutes Parkins was shown in by the landlady, and proved to be a giant of over six feet, lean, bright-eyed, and speaking with a decided American accent. He was smartly dressed in a Bond Street kit, but looked rather out of place in a frock-coat and silk hat and patent leather boots. "Well, I'm glad to see you," said the giant, shaking hands with a grip which made Allen wince--and he was no weakling. "Mark's been firing in letters about what a good sort you are, and I was just crazy to meet you. It isn't easy finding a pal in this rotten planet of ours, Mr. Hill, but I guess from what Mark says, you fill the bill, so far as he's concerned, and I hope you'll cotton on to me, for I'm dog-sick with loneliness in this old city."