Side by side on one of the big leather couches in the small smoking roomof the Milan Hotel, Mr. James P. Rounceby and his friend Mr. RichardMarnstam sat whispering together. It was nearly two o clock, and theywere alone in the room. Some of the lights had been turned out. The roarof life in the streets without had ceased. It was an uneasy hour forthose whose consciences were not wholly at rest!

  The two men were in evening dress--Rounceby in dinner coat and blacktie, as befitted his role of travelling American. The glasses in frontof them were only half-filled, and had remained so for the last hour.Their conversation had been nervous and spasmodic. It was obvious thatthey were waiting for some one.

  Three o'clock struck by the little timepiece on the mantel shelf. Alittle exclamation of a profane nature broke from Rounceby's lips. Heleaned toward his companion.

  "Say," he muttered, in a rather thick undertone, "how about this fellowVincent Cawdor? You haven't any doubts about him, I suppose? He's on thesquare, all right, eh?"

  Marnstam wet his lips nervously.

  "Cawdor's all right," he said. "I had it direct from headquarters atParis. What are you uneasy about, eh?"

  Rounceby pointed towards the clock.

  "Do you see the time?" he asked.

  "He said he'd be late," Marnstam answered.

  Rounceby put his hand to his forehead and found it moist.

  "It's been a silly game, all along," he muttered. "We'd better havebrought the young ass up here and jostled him!"

  "Not so easy," Marnstam answered. "These young fools have a way ofturning obstinate. He'd have chucked us, sure. Anyhow, he's safer wherehe is."

  They relapsed once more into silence. A storm of rain beat upon thewindow. Rounceby glanced up. It was as black out there as were thewaters of that silent tarn! The man shivered as the thought struckhim. Marnstam, who had no nerves, twirled his moustache and watched hiscompanion with wonder.

  "You look as though you saw a ghost," he remarked.

  "Perhaps I do!" Rounceby growled.

  "You had better finish your drink, my dear fellow," Marnstam advised."Afterwards--"

  Suddenly he stiffened into attention. He laid his hand upon hiscompanion's knee.

  "Listen!" he said. "There is some one coming."

  They leaned a little forward. The swing doors were opened. A girl'smusical laugh rang out from the corridor. Tall and elegant, with herblack lace skirt trailing upon the floor, her left hand resting upon theshoulder of the man into whose ear she was whispering, and whom she ledstraight to one of the writing tables, Miss Violet Brown swept into theroom. On her right, and nearest to the two men, was Mr. Vincent Cawdor.

  "Now you can go and talk to your friends!" she exclaimed, lightly. "I amgoing to make Victor listen to me."

  Cawdor left his two companions and sank on to the couch by Rounceby'sside. The young man, with his opera hat still on his head, and the lightovercoat which he had been carrying on the floor by his side, was seatedbefore the writing table with his back to them. Miss Brown was leaningover him, with her hand upon the back of his chair. They were out ofhearing of the other three men.

  "Well, Rounceby, my friend," Mr. Vincent Cawdor remarked, cheerfully,"you're having a late sitting, eh?"

  "We've been waiting for you, you fool!" Rounceby answered. "What onearth are you thinking about, bringing a crowd like this about with you,eh?"

  Cawdor smiled, reassuringly.

  "Don't you worry," he said, in a lower tone. "I know my way in and outof the ropes here better than you can teach me. A big hotel like thisis the safest and the most dangerous place in the world--just how youchoose to make it. You've got to bluff 'em all the time. That's why Ibrought the young lady--particular friend of mine--real nice girl, too!"

  "And the young man?" Rounceby asked, suspiciously.

  Cawdor grew more serious.

  "That's Captain Lowther," he said softly--"private secretary to ColonelDean, who's the chief of the aeronaut department at Aldershot. He hasa draft in his pocket for twenty thousand pounds. It is yours if he issatisfied with the plans."

  "Twenty thousand pounds!" Marnstam said, thoughtfully. "It is verylittle--very little indeed for the risks which we have run!"

  Cawdor moved his place and sat between the men. He laid a hand uponMarnstam's shoulder--another on Rounceby's knee.

  "My dear friends," he said, impressively, "if you could have built amodel, or conducted these negotiations in the usual way, you might haveasked a million. As it is, I think I am the only man in England whocould have dealt with this matter--so satisfactorily."

  Rounceby glanced suspiciously at the young man to whom Miss Brown wasstill devoting the whole of her attention.

  "Why don't he come out and talk like a man?" he asked. "What's the ideaof his sitting over there with his back to us?"

  "I want him never to see your faces--to deal only with me," Cawdorexplained. "Remember that he is in an official position. The money he isgoing to part with is secret service money."

  The two men were beginning to be more reassured. Rounceby slowlyproduced a roll of oilskin from his pocket.

  "He'll look at them as he sits there," he insisted. "There must be nocopying or making notes, mind."

  Cawdor smiled in a superior fashion.

  "My dear fellow," he said, "you are dealing with the emissary of agovernment--not one of your own sort."

  Rounceby glanced at his companion, who nodded. Then he handed over theplans.

  "Tell him to look sharp," he said. "It's not so late but that there maybe people in here yet."

  Cawdor crossed the room with the plans, and laid them down before thewriting table. Rounceby rose to his feet and lit a cigar. Marnstamwalked to the further window and back again. They stood side by side.Rounceby's whole frame seemed to have stiffened with some new emotion.

  "There's something wrong, Jim," Marnstam whispered softly in his ear."You've got the old lady in your pocket?"

  "Yes!" Rounceby answered thickly, "and, by Heavens, I'm going to useit!"

  "Don't shoot unless it's the worst," Marnstam counselled. "I shall goout of that window, into the tree, and run for the river. But blufffirst, Jim--bluff for your life!"

  There were swinging doors leading into the room from the hotel side, anda small door exactly opposite which led to the residential part of theplace. Both of these doors were opened at precisely the same moment.Through the former stepped two strong looking men in long overcoats, andwith the unmistakable appearance of policemen in plain clothes. Throughthe latter came John Dory! He walked straight up to the two men.It spoke volumes for his courage that, knowing their characters andbelieving them to be in desperate straits, he came unarmed.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "I hold warrants for your arrest. I will nottrouble you with your aliases. You are known to-day, I believe, as JamesRounceby and Richard Marnstam. Will you come quietly?"

  Marnstam's expression was one of bland and beautiful surprise.

  "My dear sir," he said, edging, however, a little toward thewindow--"you must be joking! What is the charge?"

  "You are charged with the wilful murder of a young man named VictorFranklin," answered Dory. "His body was recovered from Longthorp Tarnthis afternoon. You had better say nothing. Also with the theft ofcertain papers known to have been in his possession."

  Now it is possible that at this precise moment Marnstam would have madehis spring for the window and Rounceby his running fight for liberty.The hands of both men were upon their revolvers, and John Dory's lifewas a thing of no account. But at this juncture a thing happened. Therewere in the room the two policemen guarding the swing doors, and behindthem the pale faces of a couple of night porters looking anxiously in.Vincent Cawdor and Miss Brown were standing side by side, a little inthe background, and the young man who had been their companion had risenalso to his feet. As though with some intention of intervening, he moveda step forward, almost in line with Dory. Rounceby saw him, and a newfear gripped him by the heart. He shrank back, his finger
s relaxedtheir hold of his weapon, the sweat was hot upon his forehead. Marnstam,though he seemed for a moment stupefied, realised the miracle which hadhappened and struck boldly for his own.

  "If this is a joke," he said, "it strikes me as being a particularly badone. I should like to know, sir, how you dare to come into this roomand charge me and my friend--Mr. Rounceby--with being concerned in themurder of a young man who is even now actually standing by your side."

  John Dory started back. He looked with something like apprehension atthe youth to whom Marnstam pointed.

  "My name is Victor Franklin," that young man declared. "What's all thisabout?"

  Dory felt the ground give beneath his feet. Nevertheless, he set histeeth and fought for his hand.

  "You say that your name is Victor Franklin?" he asked.

  "Certainly!"

  "You are the inventor of a flying machine?"

  "I am."

  "You were in Westmoreland with these two men a few days go?"

  "I was," the young man admitted.

  "You left the village of Scawton in a motor car with them?"

  "Yes! We quarrelled on the way, and parted."

  "You were robbed of nothing?"

  Victor Franklin smiled.

  "Certainly not," he answered. "I had nothing worth stealing except myplans, and they are in my pocket now."

  There was a few moments' intense silence. Dory wheeled suddenly round,and looked to where Mr. Vincent Cawdor had been standing.

  "Where is Mr. Cawdor?" he asked, sharply.

  "The gentleman with the grey moustache left a few seconds ago," one ofthe men at the door said. Dory was very pale.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "I have to offer you my apologies. I haveapparently been deceived by some false information. The charge iswithdrawn."

  He turned on his heel and left the room. The two policemen followed him.

  "Keep them under observation," Dory ordered shortly, "but I am afraidthis fellow Cawdor has sold me."

  He found a hansom outside, and sprang into it.

  "Number 27, Southampton Row," he ordered.

  Rounceby and his partner were alone in the little smoking room. Theformer was almost inarticulate. The night porter brought them brandy,and both men drank.

  "We've got to get to the bottom of this, Marnstam," Mr. Rouncebymuttered.

  Mr. Marnstam was thinking.

  "Do you remember that sound through the darkness," he said--"the beatingof an engine way back on the road?"

  "What of it?" Rounceby demanded.

  "It was a motor bicycle," Marnstam said quietly. "I thought so at thetime."

  "Supposing some one followed us and pulled him out," Rounceby said,hoarsely, "why are we treated like this? I tell you we've been madefools of! We've been treated like children--not even to be punished!We'll have the truth somehow out of that devil Cawdor! Come!"

  They made their way to the courtyard and found a cab.

  "Number 27, Southampton Row!" they ordered.

  They reached their destination some time before Dory, whose horse felldown in the Strand, and who had to walk. They ascended to the fourthfloor of the building and rang the bell of Vincent Cawdor's room--noanswer. They plied the knocker--no result. Rounceby peered through thekeyhole.

  "He hasn't come home yet," he remarked. "There is no light anywhere inthe place."

  The door of a flat across the passage was quietly opened. Mr. PeterRuff, in a neat black smoking suit and slippers, and holding a pipe inhis hand, looked out.

  "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "but I do not think that Mr. Cawdor isin. He went out early this evening, and I have not heard him return."

  The two men turned away.

  "We are much obliged to you, sir," Mr. Marnstam said.

  "Can I give him any message?" Peter Ruff asked, politely. "We generallysee something of one another in the morning."

  "You can tell him--" Rounceby began.

  "No message, thanks!" Marnstam interrupted. "We shall probably runacross him ourselves to-morrow."

  John Dory was nearly a quarter of an hour late. After his third uselesssummons, Mr. Peter Ruff presented himself again.

  "I am afraid," he said, "you will not find my neighbour at home.There have been several people enquiring for him to-night, without anyresult."

  John Dory came slowly across the landing.

  "Good evening, Mr. Ruff!" he said.

  "Why, it's Mr. Dory!" Peter Ruff declared. "Come in, do, and have adrink."

  John Dory accepted the invitation, and his eyes were busy in that littlesitting room during the few minutes which it took his host to mix thatwhisky and soda.

  "Nothing wrong with our friend opposite, I hope?" Peter Ruff asked,jerking his head across the landing.

  "I hope not, Mr. Ruff," John Dory said. "No doubt in the morning he willbe able to explain everything. I must say that I should like to see himto-night, though."

  "He may turn up yet," Peter Ruff remarked, cheerfully. "He's likemyself--a late bird."

  "I fear not," Dory answered, drily. "Nice rooms you have here, sir. Justa sitting room and bedroom, eh?"

  Peter Ruff stood up and threw open the door of the inner apartment.

  "That's so," he answered. "Care to have a look round?"

  The detective did look round, and pretty thoroughly. As soon as he wassure that there was no one concealed upon the premises, he drank hiswhisky and soda and went.

  "I'll look in again to see Cawdor," he remarked--"to-morrow, perhaps, orthe next day."

  "I'll let him know if I see him about," Peter Ruff declared. "Sorry thelift's stopped. Three steps to the left and straight on. Good-night!"