"Punishment by the law, doesn't come under the head of vengeance!"

"It comes under the head of hanging, and I'll be glad to see the rope round his neck."

"Of whom are you talking?" asked Rodgers phlegmatically.

"Of the man who killed my dearest friend."

"Oh. I understood from the Superintendent that the affair was quite a mystery."

"Not to me," snapped Miss Pewsey, "Rupert Ainsleigh strangled her to get the fan."

"What fan?" asked the detective taking out his note-book, "and who is Rupert Ainsleigh?"

Miss Pewsey spread her skirts and folded her hands together in a prim way. "I shall tell you all," she cried, "and please take down all I say.

I am prepared to make this statement in a law court."

"Well," said Rodgers moistening his pencil, "you may have to. Now this Mr. Ainsleigh?----"

"Of Royabay, a few miles from Marport," said Miss Pewsey, "quite one of the old families. A nice come down for the Ainsleighs, for the last of them to die on the gallows."

"He is not there yet," said Rodgers dryly, "and may I ask you to speak in a more reasonable way. I see you don't like the man."

"I hate him," Miss Pewsey drew a long breath, "and I hated his father before him, to say nothing of his mother, who was a cat."

"Then your evidence is prejudiced, I fancy."

"Never you mind, Mr. Orlando Rodgers," she replied sharply, "take down what I say, and then you can sift the matter out for yourself. My Sophia was murdered to obtain possession of a fan----"

"What fan?" asked Rodgers again.

Miss Pewsey smiled, and calmly detailed all she had learned from Dr.

Forge concerning the fan. "You can ask my nephew, Clarence Burgh, about these things also," she ended, "and Dr. Forge, and Mr. Christopher Walker, who brought the Chinaman Tung-yu to the ball, and----"

"Wait a bit," interrupted the detective, "it appears to me from what you say," he ran a quick eye over his notes, "that the suspicion points to these Chinamen you mention. They advertised, and they wanted the fan.

Now Hwei--as I hear from you--was not at the ball, but Tung-yu was.

Therefore Tung-yu----"

"Didn't do it," said the little woman. "I don't pretend to understand why Hwei offered death and Tung-yu money for the possession of the fan; nor do I know why this Mandarin, whatever his name may be, is so anxious to get possession of the article. But I know that the fan is gone and that Tung-yu, who did not intend murder, hasn't got it."

"Then who has?"

"Rupert Ainsleigh. He went up about the advertis.e.m.e.nt and knew all about the fan. I believe he killed my Sophia, and got the fan, so as to sell it for five thousand to Tung-yu--"

"But a gentleman of property wouldn't--"

"A gentleman of property," snorted the old maid smoothing her dress, "why he's head over ears in debt and will lose Royabay before the end of the year on account of the foreclosure of a mortgage. He'd have done anything to get money, and five thousand pounds is not a small amount."

"This is all very well: but I don't see how you connected Mr. Ainsleigh with the crime."

"By means of the silk necktie," said Miss Pewsey with a triumphant smile, and related how Rupert had received the scarf from Olivia, "if he is guiltless how came his silk tie round the throat of Sophia?"

Rodgers was shaken by this piece of evidence. "It looks queer I admit,"

he said: then added, "I understand that Mr. Ainsleigh is an admirer of Miss Rayner."

"He wants to marry her, and she is in love with him," said Miss Pewsey, "which is an additional reason for the crime."

"I don't understand."

"You're not a sharp man," said the old woman tranquilly, "don't you see that as Miss Rayner inherits dearest Sophia's money, she will get the mortgage also. Then with that, and the five thousand pounds Mr.

Ainsleigh would be free from his money-troubles. Well," she added sharply, as the detective rose, "what do you say?"

"Nothing at present. Give me the address of Dr. Forge who, I believe, examined the body, and of your nephew and Mr. Ainsleigh."

Miss Pewsey did this with alacrity and accompanied Rodgers to the door.

"Don't spare him," she said venomously, "he's guilty and he shall hang,"

and she shut the door herself.

"What a spiteful woman," mused Rodgers, leaving Ivy Lodge, "her story is so very explicit that I am inclined to doubt it. She wants this young man scragged. Why?"

He could find no answer to this question, but went on his way to see Clarence Burgh. His interview with the buccaneer was brief. Clarence related the story of the yacht, and set forth his theory of Tung-yu.

"Mind," said he, "I don't like Ainsleigh, as he's trying to run the girl I want to hitch long-side of. But I guess he didn't scragg the old girl."

"You speak fairer than your aunt," said Rodgers dryly.

Clarence heaved up his right shoulder. "Huh," said he, "if you go by woman's jaw, you'll get on the shoals. Tung-yu scragged the old girl, you bet, and he's on his way to China in that yacht."

"Well, we'll see if we can't stop the yacht. She must coal somewhere.

What is her name?"

"The Stormy Petrel," said Clarence, "I got that out of a boatman, who was rowing about her yesterday."

"Did he see any Chinaman on board?"

"No. He didn't see anyone. There didn't appear to be anyone about, or else they were at tea," concluded Clarence ungrammatically.

"Humph," said the detective, noting the name of the yacht, "do you know anything of the silk tie?"

"No. Aunt Lavinia says it belongs to Ainsleigh, but I never saw it till it was round the throat of the old girl. I should like to think he put it there," said Clarence pleasantly, "for I want that chap out of the way; but I believe Tung-yu's the man."

"Perhaps he is. Have you a copy of that advertis.e.m.e.nt?"

"No. But I reckon Ainsleigh has. Ain't you going to see him?"

Rogers nodded. "Straight away. And I thank you for what you have told me. You want him hanged I presume."

"Well no I reckon not. He's in my way, but I can lay him out on my own, without the lynching biznai."

"You are fairer than your aunt," said the detective once more.