hand and with his other hand on his arm, was wheeling him about, and he
found the girl on her feet, staring at him as if he had newly risen
from the dead.

McDowell's military voice was snapping vibrantly, "Conniston, meet Miss
Miriam Kirkstone, daughter of Judge Kirkstone!"

He bowed and held for a moment in his own the hand of the girl whose
father he had killed. It was lifeless and cold. Her lips moved, merely
speaking his name. His own were mute. McDowell was saying something
about the glory of the service and the sovereignty of the law. And
then, breaking in like the beat of a drum on the introduction, his
voice demanded, "Conniston--DID YOU GET YOUR MAN?"

The question brought Keith to his senses. He inclined his head slightly
and said, "I beg to report that John Keith is dead, sir."

He saw Miriam Kirkstone give a visible start, as if his words had
carried a stab. She was apparently making a strong effort to hide her
agitation as she turned swiftly away from him, speaking to McDowell.

"You have been very kind, Inspector McDowell. I hope very soon to have
the pleasure of talking with Mr. Conniston--about--John Keith."

She left them, nodding slightly to Keith.

When she was gone, a puzzled look filled the Inspector's eyes. "She has
been like that for the last six months," he explained. "Tremendously
interested in this man Keith and his fate. I don't believe that I have
watched for your return more anxiously than she has, Conniston. And the