doctor got up quickly and took him by the arm. He was tired out, and he looked it, but he was an officer of the ship, and he couldn't allow one of the passengers to behave like this.

"No, Mr Peabody," he said quietly. "You must not go on in this way. If you insist on taking action, you must please come with me to the officer of the watch. I expect the skipper is on the bridge himself on a foggy night like this, and you will have to explain yourself to him before you go creating a disturbance on board."

"I've got to do something," repeated Mr Peabody doggedly. "Very well, if you must," said the surgeon, and picking up his cap he accompanied Mr Peabody into the alleyway.

The surgeon had one foot on the companion-ladder. At sight of the newcomer he stopped suddenly, and gave a quiet chuckle.

"Hallo, Peabody," cried a cheerful voice. "You seem to be making a night of it, or has that damn fog-horn kept you awake too? I couldn't sleep with it, so I dressed again and came up for an airing. I was afraid that if I lit the light and started reading, it might disturb my wife."

"Is she all right?" asked the surgeon sharply.

"Seemed to be sleeping like a child," answered Mr Taylor.

A sudden inspiration came to Mr Peabody. "I think I've had enough," he muttered. "I'm as sleepy as an owl. Goo-night," and turning, he lurched away unsteadily, and entered the companion-way.

"That's often the way," said Mr Taylor, looking after him with a smile; "they seem to be all right until they get into the cold air outside, and then it takes them all of a sudden. I must say I'm sorry for a fellow who can't hold his liquor like

the main entrance. In a moment he reached the alley where he had met Taylor across the trunk in the early afternoon. A number painted on the wall of the entrance of the

side passage informed him that Cabin 280 lay in that direction. The beating of his heart seemed to shake his whole body as he paused outside the closed door. His throat was dry. He moistened his lips with his tongue, and swallowed once or twice. His hand trembled as he turned the handle, but he opened the door firmly enough and stepped over the threshold. Inside all was darkness, but the faint light from the corridor showed him, after a moment, a sofa under the porthole, and the mammoth shape of the wardrobe trunk standing open against it.

Then suddenly a quiet voice from his left said, "Put up your hands, Hickey, I've got you covered.”

Mr Peabody started. He knew that voice. "Thesiger!!" he gasped.

"Hell," hissed the voice. Get out of here quick! Quick, do you hear! Go into Cabin 281-next passage don't light the light. You'll find a peephole over the lower berth. If you make the slightest sound you will ruin the whole show. Do you understand? Now go-quick."

Mr Peabody staggered from the cabin. His brain was reeling, but he had sense enough left to follow the inspector's instructions. He found Cabin 281 without difficulty. He entered and closed the door quietly. By the dim light which came in through the ventilator over the moulding he was presently able to distinguish

the upper and lower berths on the starboard side. He crossed over on tip-toe, and very gently insinuated his body on to the lower berth. He looked for the peephole, but could not locate it in the dark. Moving slightly, he felt something rustle under his side. He put down his hand to investigate. Shavings! The bunk was covered with shavings! That gave him an idea. He ran his hand over the wooden bulkhead. Ah! Here was a place that felt as if it had been chiselled away. He placed his cheek against the freshly cut wood. A pinpoint of light! Good! He put his eye up to the tiny hole. Ah! Now he could see. Thesiger was standing in the middle of the cabin. His hand was on the switch. There was a click. Darkness !

How long Mr Peabody waited in his cramped position he never knew. It seemed like an hour. It was probably a few minutes. Every muscle in his body ached. He attempted to find a more comfortable position.

him.

The bed creaked under He froze into rigidity once more. The tension became unbearable. He must move! Suddenly he heard a sound from the other cabin. The handle rattled. The door creaked. There came flood of light. Taylor stood revealed.

All Mr Peabody's stiffness vanished. He was in the stalls for the final act of the melodrama. Where was Thesiger? Was he in the bathroom, the

door of which could be seen on the left? Probably.

Taylor closed the door and stood for a moment listening. Then, crossing over towards the bulkhead he stooped down and was lost to view. Mr Peabody fancied that he was bending down over the lower berth, which he knew must be immediately beneath his line of vision. If he was looking at the occupant he was taking a long time. Suddenly he appeared again. He had something in his hand. A glass syringe and a little phial! He crossed to the basin, and taking the stopper out of the phial, he laid it on the shelf. Dipping in the point of the syringe he filled it carefully, adjusted a needle on the end, and, raising the point, expelled a few drops of fluid. Ah! Now he turned towards the bed again.

Mr Peabody could stand it no longer. He wanted to cry out, but the cry froze on his lips. From behind the shelter of the coats hanging from the wardrobe Inspector Thesiger stepped out into the open. He had a revolver in his hand. Taylor had his back to him, but he must have heard the movement, for he started up and turned, at the same moment sliding the syringe rapidly into the pocket of his jacket. Mr Peabody saw the inspector's lips moving, heard his voice, but could not distinguish the words, heard the sharp hiss of Taylor's breath as he faced the pistol, and saw him plunge

There was

suddenly forward.
the sound of a heavy fall.

Mr Peabody leaped from his crouching position. Something struck him on the head with crushing force. A thousand sparks flashed before his eyes.

"Well," said Inspector Thesiger, "I was beginning to think that you must have missed the last scene, but I gather from your condition that you didn't. You ought to remember that the existence of a lower berth implies an upper one as well. Do you feel fit enough yet to keep guard over Northbrook while I go for the captain?"

Mr Peabody was lying on the floor of Thesiger's cabin. He staggered to his feet. "My God!" he stammered, "did you get him? I-something hit me on the head. I was going to help you."

'Yes, the upper berth did," smiled Inspector Thesiger. "You'll have a pretty lump on your forehead to-morrow."

Together they left the cabin and turned into the passage leading to No. 280. Taylor was lying on the floor, his hands securely fastened by a pair of handcuffs, and his feet bound together with a towel. There was a nasty gash on his forehead from which a trickle of blood had run out and clotted.

"I did that with the barrel of my pistol," remarked the inspector, seeing Mr Peabody looking at the wound. "He made a dive for my legs, and

66

He must have rolled on to it," muttered the inspector. "Run for the doctor, quick.'

When the surgeon arrived he pronounced life to be extinct. Carefully examining the dead man they found the needle of the syringe driven deep into his flank. The syringe itself was broken, and the fluid had either entered the body or had been soaked up by his clothes. The phial, however, was still standing on the shelf of the wash basin, and was halffull. The surgeon corked it carefully and put it in his pocket.

The sun was shining brilliantly the next morning. All trace of fog had vanished, and the sea was sparkling with little waves. The Southern Cross slid, gently rolling, over the long swells of the Bay. Mr Peabody, with a plumcoloured lump, the size of a pigeon's egg, on his forehead, but with unaccustomed peace in his heart, lay at ease in a deck-chair on the leeward side

of the smoking-room. What did it matter if his hat was uncomfortable ? Why anticipate the social handicap of the ripening colours of his damaged pate? He was at peace. The confounded problem which had given his mind no rest for the last six months was solved at last, and he had been right all the time, after all. Thesiger couldn't laugh at him any more; and, by Jove! he could

"Better not ask him," murmured Thesiger knowingly. "Boys will be boys."

"Confound you, Thesiger," said Mr Peabody, springing up. "I hit it on the side of my bunk," he added truthfully, by way of explanation to Miss Harrison.

"Oh, so you two know each other?" cried the lady. "Isn't that nice? I must leave you now, I'm afraid, Mr Thesiger, for I promised father that I would totter round the deck with him before lunch. Mr Peabody, I'm surprised at you! Hit it on the bunk, indeed!" and off she went.

"Well," said Inspector The siger, easing himself luxuriously into the chair next to Mr Peabody ("I don't know who this belongs to, but it's a comfortable place, and I expect she's sea-sick, anyway "), "I expect you think that I'm overdue with my explanation as to how I got here, and why I didn't let you know I was coming. The fact is, I never thought for a moment that you would take my telegram seriously, and I got the surprise of my life when you

turned up in the cabin last night."

"I don't care," answered Mr Peabody. "I'm only just up, and I'm perfectly happy, and I was right all the time, and I'm sick of your mysterious ways-but-I would like some explanation all the same, confound you," and he laughed very happily at his bulky friend.

"My story starts," began Thesiger, "the day after we got back from the Grand National. Up to that point you knew as much as I did, and certainly you cared more. Well, on that day I was ordered up to Durham in connection with rather a complicated case of defrauding London bookmakers by means of last-minute telegraphic bets. I need not go into the circumstances of the case, but its ramifications were widespread, and one of the clues led me to your redfaced friend, Mr Harry Scarlett."

Mr Peabody started. "Scarlett," he said. "But I saw him myself, and he knew nothing."

"Yes, he told me that you had been to see him," continued the inspector, "and he apologised very handsomely for having misled you. He said that he did not appreciate the position at that time. I confess that I was able to bring a good deal of pressure to bear on him, Peabody, so you need not feel ashamed of having failed. I had never seen Scarlett before, lett before, and I had no thought of reopening the North