away with the pocket-book and the money."

"What can we do?" she asked.

"There is nothing to be done," Bellamy declared calmly. "We are
defeated. The thing is quite apparent. Von Behrling never
succeeded, after all, in shaking off the espionage of the men who
were watching him. They tracked him to our rendezvous, they waited
about while I met him. Afterwards, he had to pass along a narrow
passage. It was there that he was found murdered."

"But, David, I don't understand! Why did they wait until after he
had seen you? How did they know that he had not parted with the
paper in the restaurant? To all intents and purposes he ought to
have done so."

"I cannot understand that myself," Bellamy admitted. "In fact, it
is inexplicable."

She took up the newspaper and glanced at the report. Then, "You
are sure, I suppose, that this does refer to Von Behrling? He is
quite unidentified, you see."

"There is no doubt about it," Bellamy declared. "I have been to
the Mortuary. It is certainly he. All our work has been in vain
- just as I thought, too, that we had made a splendid success of
it."

She looked at him compassionately.