"Frankly, I haven't," he replied. "Of course, there's a lot being done
in the usual official-routine way. We've men out making various
enquiries. We're enquiring about Marbury's voyage to England. All that
we know up to now is that he was certainly a passenger on a liner which
landed at Southampton in accordance with what he told those people at
the Anglo-Orient, that he left the ship in the usual way and was
understood to take the train to town--as he did. That's all. There's
nothing in that. We've cabled to Melbourne for any news of him from
there. But I expect little from that."

"All right," said Spargo. "And--what are you doing--you, yourself?
Because, if we're to share facts, I must know what my partner's after.
Just now, you seemed to be--drawing."

Rathbury laughed.

"Well, to tell you the truth," he said, "when I want to work things
out, I come into this room--it's quiet, as you see--and I scribble
anything on paper while I think. I was figuring on my next step, and--"

"Do you see it?" asked Spargo, quickly.

"Well--I want to find the man who went with Marbury to that hotel,"
replied Rathbury. "It seems to me--"

Spargo wagged his finger at his fellow-contriver.

"I've found him," he said. "That's what I wrote that article for--to
find him. I knew it would find him. I've never had any training in your
sort of work, but I knew that article would get him. And it has got