"Get a firm grip on yourself," advised Ashton-Kirk. "If anything has
happened we can no doubt remedy it."

There came a series of moaning sobs across the wire; the girl had
evidently broken down and was crying. Ashton-Kirk said nothing; he
waited patiently. Finally she spoke once more.

"What has happened can _never_ be remedied." Then her voice sank so
low that he could scarcely catch the breathless words. "There has been
murder done."

The investigator felt the blood prickle beneath his skin. However, his
voice was steady as he replied; his calmly working mind shook off the
fear which she so strongly suggested.

"Who has been murdered?" he asked.

"The man whom I told you about yesterday--the numismatist, Hume."

"Ah!" Ashton-Kirk drew in a long breath and his eyes began to glow.
There was an instant's pause, then he said: "The hour is rather
unconventional; but if you will receive me, I'll have you tell me
about this matter privately and at once."

"By all means," she answered, eagerly. "I was about to beg of you to
come."

"In a half hour," said he, briefly. "Good-by."