Jack stared at his adversary open-mouthed. He required an appreciable time to adjust himself to the situation. His face turned grim—but he could see the joke on himself too.

"No wonder you were on to every move I made when I went to you for my disguises!"

"Humorous situation, wasn't it?" said Evers mockingly.

"Was it accident?" demanded Jack.

"Oh, no! I willed you to come to me!"

Jack recollected the boy who had first given him Evers' name.

By this time Miriam had recovered her self-possession. She came out of her corner. Addressing the detective sergeant, she said haughtily: "What is the meaning of this outrage? This"—pointing to Bobo—"is Mr. John Farrow Norman, and I am Mrs. Norman. The gentleman you have your hand on is my uncle, George Culbreth. You shall pay dearly for this!"

She carried conviction. The two detectives looked uneasy. But Jack's amused smile reassured them a little.

"This guy was trying to beat it," the sergeant said.

"I suppose he was going for assistance," said Miriam quickly.

"Well, what did you shoot for?"

"I shot as I would shoot at any intruder into my rooms. Take your hands off that gentleman! I demand an explanation!"

Evers was staring at the ceiling with his head cocked quizzically. He seemed the least concerned person in the room.

The sergeant nodded towards Jack. "We're under his orders, Miss. You'll have to ask him."

"Oh, I know him!" she cried. "A discharged servant of my husband's! He's capable of laying any charge out of spite! You'd better be careful how you believe him!" She whirled on Kate. "And this woman! She let him in! Another unfaithful servant! A nice thing it is when people like us are at the mercy of their servants!"

"Oh, dry up, my dear!" said Evers in a weary voice. "You mean well, but the game is up!"

But Miriam had acquired too much momentum to be stopped right away. "I demand that the management be sent for!" she cried.

"It is not necessary," said Jack. He had caught sight of Mr. Delamare entering from the corridor. "Here is some one who will identify me. Tell her first, who this is."

"Mr. Walter Delamare," said the sergeant with unction.

Miriam, seeing the smile of confidence exchanged by Delamare and Jack, felt the ground slipping from under her feet. Her face blanched. "Well, anyway I am Mrs. Norman," she cried. "Nothing can change that!"

"Tell them all who I am, please," said Jack.

Delamare put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "This is my good friend, Jack Norman," he said. "The late Silas Gyde's sole heir."

Evers' face betrayed no change. Perhaps his intuition had warned him of what was coming. Not so Miriam. A queer gasping cry escaped her.

"Then who—who is this?" she stammered, pointing to Bobo. "And who am I?"

"I don't know the young man's right name. Mr. Norman engaged him to impersonate him, in order to free his hands while he was engaged in running down the murderers of Silas Gyde."

Miriam's proud figure sagged. No further sound escaped her. All the color left her face. She looked old and haggard. Kate thought she was about to fall, and made a step towards her. Miriam stiffened with hate, and Kate fell back.

"What shall we do with this man?" asked the sergeant.

"Take him to headquarters," said Jack. "Watch him well. You've got the cleverest crook in America there."

"Much obliged for the compliment," said Evers coolly. "May I speak to you a moment, alone, before they take me?"

"No, Jack, no!" Kate cried involuntarily.

Jack silenced her with a smile. "Search him for weapons," he said.

The detectives frisked their captive efficaciously. Nothing more dangerous than a pen-knife was revealed.

"Go into the front room," Jack said to Evers. "No use trying a window, because there are four more men in the street." He motioned to the detectives to remain at the doors. He followed Evers.

In the middle of the gaudy blue salon Evers turned with his queer smile. "I suppose you don't want to shake hands with me."

Jack was nonplussed. He felt that he had no business to be liking the man and yet—he did. "One must draw the line somewhere," he muttered. "After all you murdered my benefactor."

Evers was not in the least put out. "Oh, come! Looking at it from a disinterested point of view, old Silas Gyde was not much of a loss to the community, was he? And he wasn't your benefactor until I put him out of the way."

"I can't argue that with you," said Jack stiffly. "Murder is murder!"

"Well, let it pass," said Evers. "That isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. It's my old lady out there. I swear to you on my............