and for that reason did Mr. Vanderpole meet with the same death,
at the same hands, as had befallen Mr. Fynes?"

Inspector Jacks moved his head thoughtfully.

"It is admirably put," he assented, "and to continue?"

"It is not my place to make suggestions to you," Penelope said.
"If you are able to connect Mr. Fynes with the American
Government, you arrive at the possibility of these murders having
been committed for some political end. I presume you read your
newspapers?"

Inspector Jacks smiled, picked up his hat and bowed, while
Penelope, with a sigh of relief, moved over to the bell.

"My dear young lady," he said, "you do not understand how
important even the point of view of another person is to a man
who is struggling to build up a theory. Whether you have helped
me as much as you could," he added, looking her in the face, "you
only can tell, but you have certainly helped me a little."

The footman had entered. The Inspector turned to follow him.
Penelope remained as she had been standing, the hand which had
touched the bell fallen to her side, her eyes fixed upon him with
a new light stirring their quiet depths.

"One moment, Morton," she said. "Wait outside. Mr. Jacks," she
added, as the door closed, "what do you mean? What can I have
told you? How can I have helped you?"