XXIV. THE MOUTH OF THE NET

XXV. AN ACT OF CHARITY

XXVI. THE LAST FINGER

XXVII. NEMESIS

XXVIII. EXPLANATIONS

XXIX. THIS MORTAL COIL

XXX. A PEACEFUL SUNSET




CHAPTER I

THE BLACK PATCH

Considering it was nearly the height of the London winter season, the
Great Empire Hotel was not unusually crowded. This might perhaps have
been owing to the fact that two or three of the finest suites of rooms in
the building had been engaged by Mark Fenwick, who was popularly supposed
to be the last thing in the way of American multi-millionaires. No one
knew precisely who Fenwick was, or how he had made his money; but during
the last few months his name had bulked largely in the financial Press
and the daily periodicals of a sensational character. So far, the man had