lated dust their entrance had disturbed. As far as the first floor was concerned they stood in an empty house.
Manford sneered.
"A fine plan of yours, inspector!"
The inspector glared his dislike.
"I'm beginning to think you were jealous a minute ago, young man."
"Then you've quite disarmed my unworthy emotion," Manford laughed.
Garth had read more than dislike in the inspector's manner. It had veiled, he was sure, a positive, an increasing fear; and the scorn of his voice had not thoroughly cloaked its uncertainty.
"Get up stairs," he snarled to his men. "Scour every inch of this place."
He turned back to Manford.
"I'll swear they were here this afternoon. This house was used as a dive no later than this afternoon."
Manford chuckled, indicating the dust which still whirled in the rays of the flash light.
The plain-clothes men returned almost at once. There was not a person in the house—not a piece of furniture. The grime on the walls, the thick dust testified to its long disuse.
Manford's superior wisdom appeared justified. The intolerance of a position and a success, both inherited, shone in his eyes, expressed itself in his voice. He drew his coat closer about him. He touched his hat. It assumed a jauntier air.
