Beauty-proof! Did MacGregor know?
Was it possible-- He took a step forward, words came to his lips, but he caught himself before he had given voice to them.
Beauty-proof! He laughed, softly, as the inspector had laughed a few moments before.
But there was a strange tenseness in his face--something which MacGregor saw, but could not understand.
"Beauty-proof ?" He repeated the words, looking keenly at the other.
"Yes, I think I am, sir." "You think you are ?" "I am quite sure that I am.Inspector.That is as far as I can go." The inspector seated himself at his desk and opened a drawer.

From it he took a photograph.

For some time he gazed at it in silence, puffing out clouds of smoke from his cigar.

Then, without lifting his eyes from the picture, he said: "I am going to put you up against a queer case, Steele, and the strangest thing about it is its very simplicity.

It's a job for the greenest rookie in the service, and yet I swear that there isn't another man in Saskatchewan to whom I would talk as I am about to talk to you.