"Sure," he replied, looking straight into her eyes, whereat she dropped her gaze to the peach upon her plate.

"I feel very proud that I know you, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West, her eyes moist with happiness.

"Proud to know me!" he repeated, and then as if Mrs. West's statement held some subtle humour that he alone had seen, he smiled.

"Why do you smile?" asked Dorothy, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Well, it tickled me some."

"What did?" she demanded.

"That anyone should be proud to know me," he said simply.

"Perhaps it's because you've never gingered mother up," said Dorothy pertly.

"Dorothy!" Mrs. West looked anxiously at John Dene, but his eyes were on Dorothy.

"And are you glad to know me?" he demanded

"'Proud' was the word," corrected Dorothy, playing with her fruit knife.

"'Glad' will do," he said, watching her keenly. "Are you glad I'm back."

"'You see I'm your secretary," she said demurely, "and I'm--I'm paid to be glad, aren't I?"

John Dene's face fell.

"When you get to know her better," said Mrs. West, "you will see that she only teases her friends."

"And her poor mother," put in Dorothy. "When do we resume work, Mr.

Dene?" she asked, turning to him.

"We'll go back to-morrow a.m.," he said, obviously relieved at the suggestion.

"But our holidays!" cried Dorothy in mock consternation.

"You can have as long a vacation as you like when I'm through," was the answer, and Dorothy drew a sigh of relief. She was longing to get back to work.

That night she and Mrs. West sat up until dawn was fingering the east, talking of the miraculous reappearance of John Dene of Toronto, as they leisurely packed ready for the morrow.

II

For nearly an hour John Dene had sat in his chair listening. From time to time he gave to the unlit half-cigar in his mouth a rapid twirl with his tongue; but beyond that he had manifested no sign of emotion.

Quietly and as succinctly as possible Malcolm Sage had gone over the happenings of the last few months, telling of the discovery of Mr.

Montagu Naylor's secret code, how it had enabled Department Z. to enlarge the scope of its operations, how Finlay had hampered Mr. Naylor in his murderous intentions with regard to his prisoner by suggesting the displeasure that would be created in high quarters, if anything happened to John Dene before the plans of the _Destroyer_ had been secured.

"I didn't figure on Jim getting corralled," said John Dene at length.

"That was where your reasoning was at fault," was Malcolm Sage's quiet retort.

"I warned him," began John Dene; then a moment later he added, "I'd hate to have anything happen to Jim. He seems all used up."

"He'll be all right in a month or so," said Colonel Walton rea.s.suringly.

"He's always sort of been around when I've wanted things done, has Jim," continued John Dene with a note of real feeling in his voice.

"He's a white man, clean to the bone."

Malcolm Sage had already learned all he wanted to know with regard to James Dene. Quiet, taciturn, seldom uttering more than a word or two at a time, and then only when absolutely necessary, he was entirely devoid of the brilliant qualities of his brother, for whom, however, he possessed an almost dog-like affection. All their lives it had been John who had planned things, and James who had stood admiringly by.

"I was tickled to death about those advertis.e.m.e.nts," said John Dene presently.

"You probably thought we were barking up the wrong tree," suggested Colonel Walton.

"Sure, until you put me wise."

"We were trying to play into your hands and save your brother," said Malcolm Sage, as he knocked the ashes from his pipe against the heel of his boot, and proceeded to stuff tobacco into the bowl.

"If it hadn't been for those advertis.e.m.e.nts----" began John Dene, then he paused.

"The first hole dug in Mr. Naylor's back-garden would have been filled-in again," said Sage quietly.

"But how did they manage Jim after he'd got into that taxi?"

"The driver released a multiple curtain that fell over his head. As it dropped chloroform was sprayed over it. Quite a simple automatic contrivance."

There was a look in John Dene's eyes that would have been instructive to Mr. Naylor could he have seen it.

"They took him right out into the country," continued Sage, "then brought him to and doped him. He was taken to 'The Cedars' between one and two the next morning. That was where we picked up the scent again," he added.

As Sage ceased speaking, Colonel Walton offered his cigar-case to John Dene, who, taking a cigar proceeded to light it.

"By the way, Mr. Dene," said Sage casually, "do you remember some one treading on your toe at King's Cross the night you were going north.

You were quite annoyed about it."

John Dene nodded and looked across at Sage, as if expecting something further.

"That was one of our men."

"But----"

"I told him to tread on your toe," proceeded Malcolm Sage, "so that you might remember that Department Z. was not quite so----"

"Now it gets me," cried John Dene. "It was you who trod on my foot at the theatre."

"At 'Chu Chin Chow,'" said Malcolm Sage, smiling.