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Nor did I, but the handkerchief interested me. Worked in the corner were the letters "Y.D." "I can get to work now, Mr. Winbush," said Quarles. "Your master tells you to do whatever I advise. Of course, I understand that in keeping these facts to yourself you were acting in your master's interests, but were it generally known that you had suppressed the truth you might get into trouble.

He and Winbush were no doubt working together, and the man's story was no doubt part of an arranged scheme. It seemed to me that the immediate recognition of the second scent was suspicious. The man was probably prepared for the test. I thought it likely that Quarles had met his match this time, and I did not expect to see Richard Lanning at the station. However, he was there with Mr. Nixon.

Respectable as it is, I do not suppose Mademoiselle frequents the Blue Lion, but we may find there the man who called upon her this morning." We took a taxi to Kensington. Every moment seemed to be bursting with importance for Quarles now. The first person I caught sight of at the Blue Lion was Winbush, evidently waiting for some one. He recognized us, and Quarles went to him.

I was annoyed, and was pretty certain that he had overlooked one important fact. Surely Lanning must have realized how dangerous it was to give such a note to Quarles? Knowing the story Winbush could tell, he would not have been deceived by the statement that the letter was intended for Mademoiselle Duplaix. He was far too clever for that.

"No, I didn't, because the man spoke to me." "Oh, it was a man not a woman?" "It was Mr. Lanning himself," said Winbush. This was so unexpected that I nearly exclaimed at it, but Quarles just watched the speaker as if he would make certain that he was telling nothing but the truth. "He spoke quickly and excitedly," Winbush went on.

"Was exceedingly useful, but I used it to get the truth out of Winbush," and Quarles told the man-servant's story in detail. "Winbush, you see, was in a dazed condition, and was deceived. In the dark Nixon pretended to be you. I suppose it was a sudden inspiration when he found himself disturbed, and his instructions to Winbush stopped your servant from questioning you.

"It has all been very mysterious," said Winbush, "and I have not been able to understand my master at all. What I have said about hearing a noise in the passage and being seized before I could switch on the light in the dining-room is all true, but the stuff which was put into my face and made me unconscious wasn't there before I had time to call out." "You called out, then?"

He put the handkerchief away, and then from another pocket produced a second handkerchief, also wrapped in tissue paper. This time it was a fragile affair of lawn and lace. "Smell that, Mr. Winbush." "That's it!" the man exclaimed; no hesitation this time. "You can swear to it?" "Yes, sir." "Rather a pleasant scent but peculiar, Wigan. I do not know what it is."

He found his man, Winbush, lying on the dining-room floor, gagged and half unconscious. The safe in his bedroom had been broken open, important papers had been stolen from it, and a wooden case, which he had locked in a cupboard there, had been taken away.

Had he done so a suspicion concerning your friend might have been aroused in your mind. Winbush, however, went a little beyond his instructions, and said he thought a woman was present, because of a perfume he noticed when he first entered the room. That particular perfume is used by Mademoiselle Duplaix, and I should hazard a guess that Mr.