and he seemed quite satisfied, and returned to his work."

"Thank you, Mr. Burboyne. My friend and I would like a few minutes'
private investigation in the study."



CHAPTER II


SIR CRICHTON DAVEY'S study was a small one, and a glance sufficed to
show that, as the secretary had said, it offered no hiding-place. It was
heavily carpeted, and over-full of Burmese and Chinese ornaments and curios,
and upon the mantelpiece stood several framed photographs which showed
this to be the sanctum of a wealthy bachelor who was no misogynist.
A map of the Indian Empire occupied the larger part of one wall.
The grate was empty, for the weather was extremely warm, and a
green-shaded lamp on the littered writing-table afforded the only light.
The air was stale, for both windows were closed and fastened.

Smith immediately pounced upon a large, square envelope that lay beside
the blotting-pad. Sir Crichton had not even troubled to open it,
but my friend did so. It contained a blank sheet of paper!

"Smell!" he directed, handing the letter to me. I raised it to my nostrils.
It was scented with some pungent perfume.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It is a rather rare essential oil," was the reply,