"Oh, I just thought so," he said awkwardly.

    "Are you at the old game?"

    Fred looked at the other steadily and saw his eyes shift. "No, I'm going straight now," he said.

    "A liar you are, and a liar you will always be," said Fred, quoting Larry Holt. "I'll bet you're on the way to 'fence' something." Again the man looked round as though seeking a way of escape; and Fred, who never despised an opportunity, however small, held out a suggestive palm and said laconically, "Drop!"

    "Only a few things," said Mr Strauss hurriedly. "Things that were given to me or wouldn't be missed—just odds and ends like. A couple of salt-spoons…" He enumerated his loot.

    "Drop!" said Fred again. "I'm hard up and want the money. I'll take a share and you shall have the money back—one of these days." Mr Strauss dropped, with a curse.

    "Come and have a drink; said Fred briskly, when the transaction had been completed to his satisfaction,

    "You've left me with about three pounds' worth," grumbled the man. "Really, Mr Grogan, I don't think you're fair," and he looked at the other suspiciously, "And you don't look as if you're hard up either."

    "Appearances are deceptive," said the cheerful Fred, and led the way into a private bar. "What are you now—valet or butler?"

    "Butler," replied Strauss, tossing down a dram. "It's not a bad place, Mr Grogan."

    "Call me Fred," begged Flash Fred.

    "It seems a liberty," said Strauss, and meant it. "I've got a butler's job with a very nice gentleman," he said.

    "Rich?" Mr Strauss nodded.

    "Yards of it," he said briefly. "But what's the good? He knows I'm a lag, and he's very decent to me."

    Fred was eyeing him narrowly. "You still dope, I see?" he said, and the man flushed.

    "Yes," he said gruffly, "I take a little stimulant now and again."

    "Well," said Fred, "who is your boss?"

    "You wouldn't know him." Mr Strauss shook his head. "He's a City gentleman, head of an insurance office."

    "Dr. Judd?" asked Flash Fred quickly.

    "Why, yes," said the other in surprise. "How did you know?" They parted soon after, and Flash Fred was a thoughtful man for the rest of the day, and his plans began to take shape towards the evening.

    He dressed himself with care after dark, and strolled Strandwards, for he numbered amongst his other accomplishments that of an experienced squire of dames, He had a ready smile for the solitary girl hurrying homewards, and though the rebuffs were many, such conquests as he had to his credit added to the pleasures of memory, Between St. Martin's Church and the corner of the Strand he drew blank, for such girls as he saw were unattractive or were escorted. Opposite Morley's Hotel he saw a peach.

    He caught one glimpse of her under a light-standard and was transfixed by the rare beauty of her face. She was alone, and Fred swung round and in two strides had overtaken her.

    "Haven't we met before?" he asked, raising his hat, but asked no more. Somebody caught him by the collar and jerked him back.

    "Fred, I shall really have to be severe with you," said the hated voice of Larry Holt, and Fred developed an instant grievance.

    "Haven't you got a home to go to?" he wailed, and continued his journey to the Strand in a bitter mood, for the romance had been shaken out of him, and he could still feel the knuckles of the shaker at the back of his neck.

    The girl passed on, unconscious of the fact that Larry Holt had been behind her. It was not an unusual experience to be spoken to in the street, and she had grown hardened to that also.

    She lived above a tobacconist's shop in the Charing Cross Road, and Larry saw her open the side door and go into the dark passage; he waited for a few minutes, then continued his walk.

    This girl had made an extraordinary impression upon him. He told himself that it was not her delicate beauty, or anything about her that was feminine, but that it was her genius, her extraordinary reasoning faculties which attracted him; and, to do him justice, he believed this. He was not a susceptible man. Beautiful women he had known, on both sides of the border line which separates the good from the bad, the honest from the criminal. He had had minor affairs in his youth, but had come through those fiery dreams unscorched and unmarked by his experiences.

    So he told himself. It was extraordinary that it was necessary to tell himself anything; but there was the indisputable fact that he spent a great deal of his spare time in arguing out his attitude of mind toward Diana Ward. And he had known her something over twenty-four hours!

    Diana Ward was not thinking of Larry as she went into her flat. Her mind was wholly occupied by the problems which the Stuart case presented. She felt that, if the missing Clarissa were found, they would be on the high road to discovering the cause of Stuart's death and the reason for this hideous crime.

    She slammed the door and went up the dark and narrow stairs slowly. The upper part of the tobacconist's was let off in three flats, and she occupied the highest and the cheapest.