The Voice in the Fog

"I've known Kitty Killigrew ever since she was born," said Killigrew

dryly. "I've yet to see her make a mistake in sizing up a man. She

picks 'em out the way I do, right off the bat. The minute you dodder

about a man or a woman, there's sure to be something' to dodder about.

Good lord! you don't suppose he had a hand in these other burglaries?"

"Can't say 's I do," answered Haggerty, reaching for his lemonade.

"You wait. I'll have it all cleared up by midnight, 'r they'll be a

shake-up at Central t'-morrow. Something's going t' happen; feel it

like a sailor feels a storm when they ain't a cloud anywheres. Now,

let's see what y' know about auction pinochle, Mr. Killigrew. No use

moping."

The yacht dropped anchor off shore at five. The beach was deserted.

Doubtless the guests were catnapping or reading. At the Killigrew

villa one did as one pleased. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford were shown to

their rooms at once, and Haggerty prowled about the stables and garage.

Kitty knocked at Mrs. Crawford's door half an hour later.

Introductions were made at dinner. The Crawfords knew most of Kitty's

guests and so did Forbes, who was very much interested in Lord

Monckton. Here was a romance, if there was any truth at all in the

newspapers. What adventures here and there across the world before the

title fell to him! He looked like one of R. Caton Woodville's drawings

of Indian mutiny officers, with that flowing black beard; very

conspicuous among all these smooth chins. Forbes determined to sketch

him.

He was rather sorry not to see Thomas at the table. Was Haggerty after

him with the third degree? Poor devil! It did not seem possible; yet

all the evidence pointed to Thomas. Why should Jameson say that he had

seen sapphires if he had not? Still, the thing that did not add up was

the position with which Thomas had allied himself to the Killigrews.

Hang it, there was a figure missing. Haggerty was right. A man with

any sympathy had no business man-hunting.

After dinner Crawford sought Forbes. "Have you any fire-arms with you,

Mort?" he whispered.

"A pair of automatics. Why . . ."

"Sh! Please hustle and get them and ask no questions. Hurry!"