THE Sealed Tower.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2660, 19 May 1908, Page 2

THE Sealed Tower.

By 'Alice and Claude Askew. Authors of "A Scarlet Sin,'-' "The Shulamite." "Anna of the Plains." Ac., Ac-

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

TENTH INSTALMENT.

CHAPTER XVI.

Though the journey to York was not a long one, it was a slow train by which Jocelyn had elected to travel, and he realized that there would be a certain delay before he arrived at his destination. And he was in a fever to be there, and to meet this mysterious Frank Burnell, of whom he had been lucky enough, by sheer accident, to learn something of the identity. It was of Frank Burnell that he was thinking more particularly now, for it seemed to him almost a certainty that this man. son of the murdered woman of Dyne Lodge, as he now knew him to be, would elucidate the whole mystery. .Jocelyn's theory that Mr. Burnell was actuated by motives of revenge seemed more reasonable the more he thought it over.

Of the story which the Kelton innkeeper had so hurriedly related to him, bringing it to a conclusion almost as the train left the platform he thought less. Certainly it was an extraordinary tale but it rested on so slight and uncertain a basis. It was only natural that strange rumours should be current about the doings at Kelton Castle, centring themselves especially round Gideon Travis, well hated "by his tenantry as he appeared to be. It seemed very certain that there was something strange, something irregular about the habits of the man. but Jocelyn could ser no connection lnv tween what he already knew and the remarkable experiences of the innkeeper's son. Jocelyn wanted to keep, before all things, within the bounds of reason, and to his mind the boy's story seemed a wholly impossible one. Probably he had looked in at the window of the barn, had caught sight of some quaintlyshaped mechanical contrivance with which Gideon Travis happened to be occupied, and had imagined the rest. Had not Gideon himself spoken to Jocelyn of his taste for mechanics? Had he not inferred that there was some new instrument upon which he was engaged ? For the present Frank Burnell and the steam-yacht Sea Breeze were of paramount interest to Jocelyn's mind.

After leisurely traversing a few miles the train came to a halt at a little way-side station. Jocelyn glanced from the window, and noticed that there was one passenger walking slowly along the platform in his direction—a young man dressed in a light tweed suit and wearing a straw hat.. Somehow the figure appeared familiar to Jocelyn. though, of course, it was absurd to think that he might meet any one he knew in such a place. His acquaintances were so few in numl»er. too, though natnraßy while at the University he had been on good terms enough with plenty of young men. Was it by chance one of these—some one whom he knew rather by sight than by name who had found his way to this little out-of-the-way station ? The young man had been looking in at the oarriag*? windows, and Jorelyn had not been able to distinguish his faco. Now, as he came almost level with the carriage where Jocelyn was seated, he turned his face into full view. A cry of recognition escaped them both. "Reggie ! Reggie ! " Jocelyn started to his feet, and threw open the carriage door. "Jocelyn ! Well, of all the surprises" "It's I whio should he surprised." laughed Jocelyn. "You knew I was in this part of the world. Reggie, but I hadn't the smallest idea that you were not in I,ondon. It's not so many days since you wrote to me and you said nothing then of any intention of coming north. Xo wonder I hardly recognized you just now though I was staring at you as you came along the platform, thinking there was something familiar about your walk. But you'll get in here will you not ? That is, if you are travelling by this train." "Rather," returned Reggie, springing lightly into the carriage, ami throwing his bag down on the seat.. "I'm going to York, and I'm jolly glad to have your company, Jocelyn." His smiling face became all of a sudden grave. "I say." he said, "you've lieen having a hard time, haven't you ?. I needn't tell yon how sorry I was, old man. to hear of your loss, ami I wish I had been able to come to you as you asked me: but 1 hadn't a notion when you wrote, that business would bring me into this part of the world and I.was engaged at the time on a matter of business—very serious business. too." He spoke a few more words of condolence as he installed himself upon the snat opposite Jocelyn. His lips—they were lips that sitiil*-d readily—ami his frank blue eves were very expressive of genuine feeling. There was a whistle from the engine, and the train resumed its leisurely course.

"I've got a lot to toll you," remarked Reggie with a quick look at his friend. "and from what you wrote in your letter no doubt you've a lot to tell me. too. If I had had tim«S or thought that you cotdd ha\o pot away from Kelton to meet, me in York. I shotdd have wired to voir: but. T left Tendon in a great hurry yesterday, and have l>ocn busily occupied sine then with an affair of my own. But I had made up my mind to write to yon from York, and to see you if possible. Luckily, there'll Ih> no need to write now. Hut what a strange piece of luck that we should have met at a little out-of-the-way station like this ! " "What station was it ? " asked •locelyn. "I didn't notice the name, because my attention was fixed upon you."

"The place is called Dereham." responded the other, "and I came here in search of a man whom I have never seen in my life. He has a house somewhere about a couple of miles off. a lonely sort of place "That's very curious." .locelyn opened his eyes wide. "I am on my way to York." he added, "in search of a man whom I have never met. And tiiis man. I understand, owns a house somewhere in ihe neighbourhood of Dereham—Dereham l'lace, I believe it is called."

"Dereham Place ! " Reggie laughed "This is really a remarkable coincidence," he cried. "That s just, where I've been." "To find a Mr. Frank purnell ?" "That's the name. Yes, Frank Btirnell." The two young men stared at each other almost in amazement. "We am both after the same person and probably for very different reasons," said Reggie Painton, after a moment-. "By Jove, it's very strange ! I came back to the station utterly off the scent, for I found no one at Dereham Place who could or would give me the smallest information when T got there last night. T was not too civilly treated either, but perhaps that was to be expected. I was forced to retreat and spend the night at the little inn by the station. Then I decided to go to York by the first train this morning where I hope to meet some one who may have secured the information T failed to get." "T believe that Frank Burnell is in York." returned .Tocelvn. "I hope he is. I have a letter to deliver to him—a letter which is of the utmost importance. T have every reason to believe that I shall find him at the Regency Hotel. That is-the address which T have been given. But what, on earth can you want Kith him Reggie ? Ami why should you come all the way from London to meet this man ? I am very much in the dark, and the whole coincidence is extraordinary.

"I'm in,the dark, too." replied the other ; "but it, seems to me. .Tocelyn ■that there may be more, in this meeting of ours than you or I think for. You told.me something in vour letter of the peculiar position in which you were placed, and how you mistrusted the people of Kelton. Has Frank Bunnell anything to do with thom ? If so. it may be that we are on the eve of a discovery. I think we can tell each other things that may be of mutual interest. But by Jove, it never occurred to me before to associate your troubles with my own ! I wonder if there is any connection between them?" "I didn't, know you had any troubles, Reggie," commented Jocelyn. "T thought you were absolutely the happiest and most contented man in the world. You don't look as though you have been hardly used." He scrutinized his friend as he spoke, smiling slightly, for Reggie Painton. indeed did not present the appearance of havinc suffered.

A year older than Jocelyn. Regffie was built on a larger scale than his friend. He stood six feet high and he was broad in proportion. His head was well set upon his shoulders. and his complexion was ruddy from constant exposure to the air. Though he lived in London and much of his time was taken up with routine work. Reggie was keen on athletics generally. He bicycled up from Richmond every morning, and if his occupation 'permitted it. returned early enough to play a jrame of tennis. or take his sisters for a row on the river. Of course, this could not always be done, for Resrgie was a busy man. and the newspai>er upon the sta(T of which he was not infrequently required his services for days and nights together. He was always sent to this place or that in the capacity of reporter, and it was no unusual thing for him to lie away from home for days together. The "Meteor " the paper for which he worked, was nothing if not up to date, and it made a point of investigating on its own account any events that happened to be in particular evidence, or in which the public were showing interest. , Reggie Painton had proved himself particularly talented in that direction. He was an excellent interviewer, obtaining admission when others were refused, mainly, perhaps because of his great charm of manner. Also, he had a way of putting two and two together and forming conclusions which would have done justice to an astute detective. For this reason he was more especially employed in the investigation of any sensational crime that might have startled London. He was one of the few Pressmen whose assistance was appreciated by the police, for he always showed a rare discretion in his reports, and worked with, rather than in opposition to them. "It's partly on my own account, and partly on account of the paper that I am here," Reggie resumed after he had gazed for a minute or two as though in reflection, out of the carriage window. "There has been a very strange combination of circumstances —affecting me personally, too. Ofliciallv I'm at work for the 'Meteor,' but I have my own ends to gain as well." He gave a short, nervous laugh, and his colour heightened.

"A woman in it, Reggie ? " asked Jocelyn, with a smile. The other nodded. "Yes, there's a woman in it." he replied. "There always is, isn't there '? " "My dear fellow, have I to congratulate you ? I didn't know. All is well. I hope?" Jocelyn added the last words quickly, noticing an uneasy glimmer in his friend's eyes. "I don't know. That's just the trouble of it," was the reply. "Everything has been so strangely mixed up. My love alTair—for there was a love afTair at the bottom of it all, •locelvn—llie work that the "Meteor' has set me on. this niurcier of Mrs. Martin at Hampstead—you've heard of it, of course "

"At Dyne Lodge ? " cried .locelyn, excitedly. "Indeed I have. I have good reasons for Knowing of it. It is inexplicably mixed tip with my own affairs. 100. l>ook hero, Reggie it siv-nif to me." he added slowly.

"that it is indeed a very fortunate thing that we have met to-day bound as we are on the same errand, and the sooner wo toll each other all we know about this Mr. Frank Burnell, about everything, the better for both of us. And since you are a hit of a detective, you'd In-ttor listen to my story first. Then perhaps you can piece it in with what you know - , and if you can make anything out of it, if you cau see light where everything seems dark to me, it will be a greater relief to tne than you can imagine. I say," he added, awkwardly, "you mustn't think me rude for putting all this before anything else—T haven't even asked after the judge or your sisters—but the fact is. I've gone through a lot during the last few days and am hardly myself."

Boggie Pain ton nodded. He understood this. It was sufficient, to glance at Jocelyn's face to appreciate the fact that great trials had befallen him. Besides, he himself was in a state of excitement hardly less pronounc«>d than that of his friend.

"You go ahead and let me hear all about it," he said, quickly, "then I will tell you what 1 know, why I'm so particularly keen on finding a man

whom I have never seen in my lif«. There'll be just time—considering the pace we are travelling—to get. both our stories in before we reach York. Thfn we must' consider what is best to be done. I may have to look up Dalton. Let's se® { oid you ever meet Dalton?"

"He's a detective, isn't he ?" queried .Tocelyn. "I've heard you speak of him, that's all." "A sharp man—one of the smartest in the force. I've often worked with him before. Well, what you tell me may make it necessary for me to look up Dalton before I do anything else. He travelled to York by the night train, and must be there by now. Anyhow we can settle on our plan of campaign when we know where we are. Fire away—let me hear all about yourself, and especially how Frank Burnell came into the story."

He settled himself comfortably to listen, and Jocelyn proceeded to tell everything that had happened to him since the first days of his arrival at Kelton. Reggie Painton already knew something of the strange Conditions of Jocelyn's early life I s0 upon this the latter did not enlarge, but he omitted nothing that wotild have any bearing upon the present situation. He descrilied Gideon Travis and Nathan Oliver minutely, told of the Sealed Tower and of the mysterious flights that appeared at its summit, with especial reference to the undoubted signals that had passed between/ it and Frank Burnell's yacht, the Seabreeze ; he described fully.- the manner of his father's death and what he himself had sem. or fancied he had seen that night ; the terrible shock of his interview with Nathan Oliver after his mother's, funeral, the tale the solicitor had told him, with its reflections upon his parents and himself. and finally the events of the night before, which had led to his flight from Kelton, with the letter written by Fay and addressed to Frank Burnell.

"To sum it all up," he concluded. "I know (hat these two men up at the castle are engaged upon something nefarious, though I cannot imagine what it is. I know that, the Hampstead murder is—to put it mildly—a subject of interest to them though it may be a mere coincidence that Martin should be the name'of the man with whose wife my father is supposed to have elopoa. T know that Frank Burnell, son of the murdered woman is, or has been, in some way connected with the doings of this presumable half-brother of mine, and his precious solicitor, but I am led to suppose, both bv my mother and by Fay. that Frank Burnell is now likely to be friendly to me. Finally, I have left Fay—very much against my will—in a position that may be full of danger for her, though, beyond her hateful engagement to Gideon, I haven't a notion what the danger may be. All I know is that I have got to find Frank Hurnel.l, who will come to her awl. and who will elucidate the whole extraordinary mystery." Tt was not without frequent interruptions from Reggie that Jocelyn told his story. The young journalist had many questions to ask. and his sympathy for his friend when he learned how he had been disinherited and the honour of his parenta&> besmirched was very sincere. Then, too, he wanted to know all about Fay. even making Jocelyn interrupt his story to describe her, and was quite enthusiastic in his congratulations. though he opined that Porothv would lie cut up. to say the least of it. when she heard of Jocelyn's engagement. "And, of course, in a way T'tn sorry too, old chap." he said, "for there's no one ] should have lieen so pleased to have as a brother-in-law. Rut naturally, that can't be helped, and Dorothy, poor girl, must think of some one else. As it happens, there's quite a nice boy—a friend of mine—who wants to marry her. and T think she's only holding off because of you." "Tn any case." said Jocelyn. sadly. "I should have given up all idea of Dorothy, penniless as T am. and with the other thing hanging over me too. 'With Fay it doesn't seem the same somehow. She's not like an ordinary mortal, broughl up as she has been. Tndeed, for the last week or so I seem to have been in another world altogether—a sort of fairy-like world, with ogres and enchanted palaces and spirits—very nice to read about, but jolly unpleasant to live in. I shall feel quite out of it when T get back to civilization. Well, you see Fay has been just like a good fairy among ogres and gragons and things, and so T can't judge her by any ordinary standard. Besides she knows all about me." He sighed rather wearily. "She knows I've been disinherited. as well as what they say about my birth."

"Dorothy wouldn't give you up because of llio money," said Reggie, heartily. "I'm sure of that. She has quite enough of her own. And as (o the other thing. T don't believe it any more than you do. I'm as confident as you that it will be disproved. awl T l>elieve you have the very evidence in your own possession. Your mother probably foresaw that such a charge would be made. and protected herself (and you) l»\ those papers she gave you. She made you promise not to open them because, naturally enough, she did not want you even to'think there was an insinuation of such a thing unless the insinuation was actually made. My the way, may T have a look at the packet, .Tocelyn ? " "Of course." .focelyn opened (h<little hag he had carried away with him. ami after a moment's search produced the packet. "Here il is," he said. Reggie took it from his hand and examined it carefully, taking special notice of the seal. "I think." he said, after r "that you should open this now." "You think so ?" asked Jocelyn. with some surprise. "In spite of the promise I made my mother "You promised not to open the packet, unless there were dire need," responded the other. "Believe me, there is that need."

"But my mother wished me to give it into the hands of the man to whom it was addressed. I shall see him very shortly, now, and can carry out her behest ; T can hand it over to Frank Burnell."-

.Tocelyn felt conscious that his protest, lacked strength. It had only been a strong effort of will that he had restrained himself from opening the packet the night before, when he had held vigil in his own room prior to deciding to leave the castlc.

"All manner of things have happened which your mother could not have taken into account." said Regaie. "You muit remember that.. Tt.

is possible ,that your plans may.., be completely altered by a knowledge of the contents of that envelope. It isn't merely idle curiosity, Jocelyn," he ddded seriously ; is not, a time for anything of that sort. When you have heard what I have to tell you about. Frank Burnell you will understand better what I mean." r "lf it is your advice. Reggie, that I open this picket- myself ' Jofcelyn with some hesitation was turning the object in question over and over in his hands—"l will do so. I think I hayc the right. • In fact I nearly examined the contents last night.'' "I do advise it strongly," was the answer. "I think it very essential." Jocelyn hesitated no longer. He cut the string that was held tightly in place by the great Travis seal and then tore open the envelope. He drew out a bundle of papers bound together by a piece of broad tape. Reggie Painton leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, keenly interested in the proceedings. Jocelyn untied the knot in the tape, and then proceeded to examine the papers themselves. His face, eager with excitement, gradually took on an expression of blank bewilderment. (

"What is it ?" cried Reggie: "Jocelyn, why do you look so strange ? " "I don't understand," was the faltering answer. "Reggie, this must be more of those devils' work.. , I have been deceived. Sec for your-' self."

Reggie seized the papers from his friend's hands, and quickly scrutinized them. Blank sheets, one and all. Not a single word was written upon any one of them t ; ; r O'J v .V'Ov'v: CHAPTER XVII. The two young men stared at each' other for a moment ;in silence. The papers had fallen on the cushion of the Seat beside Reggie. At last he stretched out his hand and picked them up examining them now with

groat minuteness. "What do you make of it?" queried .Tocelyn, watching him anxiously "That packet is just as my mother gave it into my hands. I'll swear to that. 'No one has touched it since it's been in my possession. I recognize the particular formation of the seal. There's a much larger seal j one side than the other, and the impression is a little blurred over the gri(lin's head. I took note of that at the' time. My mother cannot have given 1110 all those blank sheets of paper intentionally, unless they are meant, to convey some sort of message to the man to whom they are addressed. Hut then she spoke of my examining them if I failed to find him. No. she too, must have been deceived.''' -He laughed awkwardly. "Didn't I tell you I've been in a sort of land of sorcery ? " lie added. "Why, I might almost have expected something to happen—something abnormal."

Reggie I'ainton collected the papers mechanically, and then tied them once more with the,tape, handing them back to .Tocelyn, when this task was completed. "Put them back in their envelope," he said. "They may he of use to us in the future—who can say ? though T must admit that they do not look very promising now. I was wondering if anything may be written upon them in some sort of sympathetic ink. words that will appear if the paper be heated or anything of that kind—but I don't think so. Tam more inclined to think that the packet was tampered with while in your mother's possession." Tie stared for a few minutes reflectively out of the window. Tt, was a bleak ami uninteresting country that they were traversing, also there were indications that they were nearing a more populous district. The sun blazed in at the window, and Reggie rose to draw the curtains across it. while .Tocelyn was replacing the papers as best, he could, into their envelope..

"We must leave this matter for the present." Reggie remarked, reflectively, "for there's nothing to be pained l>y mere conjecture. We've got a plot., and a very difficult one to unravel and it seems to me we must delay as little as possible. Unless T'm mistaken we shan't be long before we reach York, and I've got a lot to tell you—a lot that you ought to know l>efore you decide upon what course you will pursue. We shall have to act together, Jocelyn : that is the one thing I can see clearly. The villainy that we have to unmask is not only particularly intricate. but also very widespread. There are more concerned in it than T could possibly have imagined. But now I'll tell you my story. Listen to it carefully and interrupt as little as you can for our time is short."

The train had drawn up at a little station as Reggie spoke. He glanced quickly at the name of it, and then his forehead wrinkled into a slight frown. "T don't know where we arc." he said quickly, "ami T shall have to hurry up if you are to hear all that is to be told. If T've not finished my story we must go into one of the hotels by the station and get it over there. For it's very certain that you must not go fn the Regency after Frank lturn"U till you've heard even thing." With which introduction Reggie begun his story. The first scene of it was laid at a priv ate hotel in Fast bourne, where Reggie had been staying some six months earlier. Here he had made the acquaintance of a Miss Agnes Burnell. who happened to l»e slaying under the chaperonage of her aunt, at the same house. An informal friendship had sprung up between them and by dint of seeing much of each other—for Reggie was alone, having gone to Fast bourne after a month or so of particularly hard work in London, for complete change and relaxation—this friendship hurl ripened and matured.

"She was so very sympathetic,'-' Jleggie remarked, unable 1 hough the time was so short to refrain from a description of the girl with whom he had fallen in love. "Absolutely different to your Fay, as you have painted her to me ; but then, you and I were always opposed in our tastes, weren't we, Jocelyn ? Agnes is tall, stately, and reserved. She has a wonderfully proportioned figure. a very marvel of grace. She is dark, with great black eves and glossy black hair. There is something almost un-English in her manner and she was such a contrast in the matter of dress. I can't bear the type of girl who apes the man. who dresses as nearly like him as she can. carries a walking-stick on the parade, and is always wanting to be doing something particularly energetic. There were no end of that sort at East-

bourne, and Agnes was dengbtfui compared to them. A clever girl, too—one who had travelled, and could talk well of things she had seen." He laughed a little with a bashfulness quite unusual to him. "The girl you love is a fairy," he addea, "but mine is one of the Graces."

i Reggie, it, appeared, t had obtained permission to call upon Miss Burnelf in London. He had found her living with- her aunt in a small but particularly handsomely furnished flat. It was not their own. she explained, for they were birds of passage rarely staying long in any one place. It had not struck Reggie at the time, but he remembered later on that though he had spoken very freely of his own affairs, she had given him hardly any information as to herself. Perhaps he had been so particularly attracted by the- girl's 'personality that he had given small thought to this. It was not till he had seriously made up: his mind to ask her to marry him that he realized the necessity of knowing something more about tesr. .

Determined to put the momentous question, he called one day—it was a matter of some two months ago—at the flat. Agnes Burriell received, him with her usual grace of mann/pr ; her aunt happened to be out. Reggie, as discreetly as he could, led up the conversation to the subject, he had in mind : but it seemed to him as if Agnes was making skilful attemptsj to change tjio trend of his thoughts. At last, however, he blurted out an avowal of love. . ' •

"I want you to marry me, Agnes" he said, "for I have never met a girl whom I would rather marry than you. That's why I'm asking you about yourself. Don't you understand, dear, why I questioned you?:' To his surprise she burst into tears She could not marry him, she said ; she could not marry any one. She was constrained to admit that she loved him. He might be assured that there was no other man in her life. Nevertheless marriage was impossible to her, and she begged Reggie to put all thought of it from his mind unless he wished the,pleasant Intimacy that had existed between them for the last four months to come to an end. '

Naturally enough Reggie was unwilling to accept these words as final. He felt certain that Agnes would reconsider her decision, ana he vowed that there was nothing—nothing that would make him give her up. Only she must tell him all about.. herself, and then he was quit? assured that whatever it was sh£ feared they would be able together tp face and overpower the difficulty. But she must {rust him ; that was the only thing he asked. She must give him her full confidence. She begged him to go, to leave her. She' was too agitated, too troubled in mind, and did not know what to say. Would he return the next, afternoon, by which time she would be able to think things out? And so, recognising that it was useless to resist that day, Reggie took his departure. The next afternorin ' according to her suggestion he called again at the. flat only to learn that Miss Burnell and her aunt had taken their departure that morning, having settled in full for the three months' tenancy of their flat that was yet t6 run. They had given no address, and although he made diligent inquiry, Reggie failed to learn anything whatever as to their destination. He brought all his detective abilities to bear upon the subject during the next week or so, but utterly .without result, Agnes Burnell ha<l completely and seemingly of her own accord gone out of hM life. •Tt was soon after this (hat the Hampstead murder occurred, and Reggie was sent by his paper' to make a report., upon it. . ~ "You know all about the murder', T suppose, .Tocelyn ?" h$ said. "So X needn't go into full particulars

"But I don't know much," interposed Jocel.vn. "I read the, marTced paragraph of which I spoke to you, and T learnod from the innkeeper at Kelton that the nVurdered woman, Mrs. Martin, had '"a son named Frank Burn ell, the jfi'an for whom we arc seeking, and no doubt a relation of the girl who so mysteriously disappeared. 1,-, am. beginning to see now, Reggie, how you eaJne again upon the track of -Agnes, and why you are so -intent upon finding Mr. Burnell." f" "Frank Burnell is the brother of my Agnes," returned Reggie,- a sad intonation in * his voice. ... mother was the muraered woman of Dyne Lodge. So much T discovered when I reached Hampstead, for I persuaded an ji old servaht |of the house to' speak—a strange old Frenchwomaai, so dark and wrinkled that one might, almost have taken her for a negress. She had been questioned over and over again by the police, b"t I don't think they had succeeded in getting, much information from her. I was more fortunate ; but then, 'perhaps, I was more ready to put my hand in my pocket. "What T discovered was this : Mrs. Martin who was generally supposed to have been a widow, was constantly visited by an old man who passed by Ihe French name of Dubois. I inferred, though I cannot exactly say how—for the old housekeeper did not commit herself to any definite statement—that, this man was in reality no other than Mr. Martin, the dead woman's husband. Dubois was in partnership with Frank Burnell dealinir in precious stones, and having an office in the City. Of course. J elicited the information that Frank Burnell had a sister named Agnes, who, however, never came to Dyne Lodge and was not supposed to lie on good terms with her relatives. She had. however, been there quite recently—since the murder—in the company of her brother, and then the two had disappeared again, my informant having no idea where they had gone.

"St range, was it not, Jocelyn. that in this way T should, by sheer accident of circumstances, receive intelligence of my lost Agnes ? Naturally my first desire became now the tracing of Frank Burnell. I thought T should have little difficulty in finding him. for he had already been questioned by the police. "But it has not been so easy, as you can- see for yourself. lam still searching for Frank Burnell, and T have very grave doubts, in spite of that letter you carry, whether we shall find him at the Regency Hotel in York."

To be Continued.