is on the fourth floor. By which I conclude that it isn't long since he
was eating his dinner."

"Oh, he's young--he's quite young," said Spargo. "I should say he's
about four-and-twenty. I've met him only--"

At that moment the unmistakable sounds of girlish laughter came down
the staircase. Two girls seemed to be laughing--presently masculine
laughter mingled with the lighter feminine.

"Seems to be studying law in very pleasant fashion up here, anyway,"
said Rathbury. "Mr. Breton's chambers, too. And the door's open."

The outer oak door of Ronald Breton's chambers stood thrown wide; the
inner one was well ajar; through the opening thus made Spargo and the
detective obtained a full view of the interior of Mr. Ronald Breton's
rooms. There, against a background of law books, bundles of papers tied
up with pink tape, and black-framed pictures of famous legal
notabilities, they saw a pretty, vivacious-eyed girl, who, perched on a
chair, wigged and gowned, and flourishing a mass of crisp paper, was
haranguing an imaginary judge and jury, to the amusement of a young man
who had his back to the door, and of another girl who leant
confidentially against his shoulder.

"I put it to you, gentlemen of the jury--I put it to you with
confidence, feeling that you must be, must necessarily be, some,
perhaps brothers, perhaps husbands, and fathers, can you, on your
consciences do my client the great wrong, the irreparable injury,
the--the--"