The girl rushed into the pause, for she already had a good estimate of the Saint's perverse sense of fun, and dreaded its irresponsibility. She felt that at any moment he would produce a revolver and ask if they knew anyone worth murdering.

"Algy, be an angel and go and tell Aunt Agatha to hurry up."'

"That is Mynheer Hans Bloom's nephew," observed the Saint calmly as the door closed behind the talkative one. "He is thirty-four. He lived for some years in America; in the City of London he is known as a man with mining property in the Transvaal."

Patricia was astonished.

"You know more about him than I do," she said.

"I make it my business to pry into my nieigh-bours' affairs," he answered solemnly. "It mayn't be courteous, but it's cautious."

"Perhaps you know all about me?'' she was tempted to challenge him.

He turned on her a clear blue eye which held a mocking gleam.

"Only the unimportant things. That you were educated at Mayfietd. That Miss Girton isn't your aunt, but a very distant cousin. That you've led a very quiet life, and travelled very little. You're dependent on Miss Girton, because she has the administration of your property until you're twenty-five. That is for another five years."

"Are you aware," she demanded dangerously, "that you're most impertinent?"

He nodded.

"Quite unpardonably," he admitted. "I can only plead in excuse that when there's a price on one's head one can't be too particular about one's ac-quaintances.

And he looked meditatively at the yellow-golden contents of his glass, which he had held untasted since it was given him.

"Your health," he wished her; and, as he set down the empty glass, he smiled and added "At '"least I've no fear of you."

She had no time to find an adequate answer before Algy returnedwith Miss Girton and a tall, thin, leather-faced roan who was introduced as Mr. Bloem.