right man is going to be punished, and the key to the storeroom
will be given to the police, and to no one else."

"But--the other key?"

"That is not in my keeping."

"I do not believe you!"

"I am sorry," I said shortly. "As a matter of fact, Burns has that."

By the look of triumph in her eyes I knew I had told her what she
wanted to know. She went below soon after, and I warned Burns that
he would probably be approached in the same way.

"Not that I am afraid," I added. "But keep the little Sloane woman
at a distance. She's quite capable of mesmerizing you with her
eyes and robbing you with her hands at the same time."

"I'd rather you'd carry it," he said, "although I'm not afraid of
the lady. It's not likely, after--"

He did not finish, but he glanced aft toward the jollyboat. Poor
Burns! I believe he had really cared for the Danish girl. Perhaps
I was foolish, but I refused to take the key from him; I felt sure
he could be trusted.

The murders had been committed on the early morning of Wednesday,
the 12th. It was on the following Tuesday that Mrs. Sloane and I
had our little conversation on deck, and on Wednesday we came up