conflagration remains a mystery. Apparently nobody occupied the house
when the fire broke out, the sub-tenants, whose identity is veiled in
obscurity, having left some days previously.

"Have you read the account in your paper?" I asked, turning to Dulcie as
I put mine down.

"Yes," she answered, "I have just finished it. Isn't it terrible?"

"I have a theory," a boy's voice exclaimed suddenly. Dick, seated on the
floor, tossed aside the newspaper I had thrown to him.

"That woman whose body has been found may have been stabbed, but I
believe that big cobra had something to do with her death. I don't know
why I think that, but I do. It's instinct, I suppose. Michael, I believe
you were spoofed by that man Gastrell, whoever he is--absolutely spoofed."

"Good heavens, Dick!" I exclaimed in dismay, "how do you come to know
what I have just told to Dulcie in confidence?"

"Oh, ask me another, old sport!" he cried out, and burst into laughter.
"If you will 'exchange confidences'--isn't that the phrase?--with
Dulcie, and be so engrossed that you don't notice me in the room--well,
what can you expect?"




CHAPTER IV