" "What for?" demanded the turnkey. The next moment, an exclamation was heard in the voice of Thames. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly. “No, it was simple. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. Mirrors. It’s gone.
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