flitted momentarily over his face. We had been watching him
anxiously, wondering what he had found.

As he looked up he remarked to us, with his eyes fixed on Miss
Lowe, "That was a ladies' cigarette. Did you notice the size?
There has been a woman in this case--presumably."

The girl, suddenly transformed by the rapid-fire succession of
discoveries, stood before us like a specter.

"The 'Group,' as anarchists call it," pursued Craig, "is the
loosest sort of organization conceivable, I believe, with no set
membership, no officers, no laws--just a place of meeting with no
fixity, where the comrades get together. Could you get us into the
inner circle, Miss Lowe?"

Her only answer was a little suppressed scream. Kennedy had asked
the question merely for its effect, for it was only too evident
that there was no time, even if she could have managed it, for us
to play the "stool pigeon."

Kennedy, who had been clearing up the materials he had used in the
analysis of the cigarette, wheeled about suddenly. "Where is the
headquarters of the inner circle?" he shot out.

Miss Lowe hesitated. That had evidently been one of the things she
had determined not to divulge.

"Tell me," insisted Kennedy. "You must!"