Their spies, of course, are everywhere, and their organization perfect.

The first one of their creatures who tries to break away is Mademoiselle Flossie.

The poor little fool lived for only a few hours afterwards.
Your bribe was high, but she ought to have known better." "You mean----" "Why, of course! The theft of her poor little jewels was only a blind.
It was to deceive the public, for, as a matter of fact, her murderer would have been perfectly safe if he had strolled into the nearest police station and made his report.

She was killed because she was going to give you certain information." Duncombe shuddered.
"Great Heaven!" he exclaimed.

"Tell me, Spencer, who or what can be at the back of all this?
Guy Poynton was simply a healthy-minded, not over-intelligent, young Saxon, unambitious, and passionately fond of his home and his country life.