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 "Everyone! . . . Have you Miss Hoffman? Now jot down Colonel Ostrander"

"Look here!" cut in Markham.

"—and I may have one or two others for you later. But that will do nicely for a beginning."

Before Markham could protest further, Swacker came in to say that Heath was waiting outside.

"What about our friend Leacock, sir?" was the Sergeant's first question.

"I'm holding that up for a day or so," explained Markham. "I want to have another talk with Pfyfe before I do anything definite." And he told Heath about the visit of Major Benson and Miss Hoffman.

Heath inspected the envelope and its enclosures, and then handed them back.

"I don't see anything in that," he said. "It looks to me like a private deal between Benson and this fellow Pfyfe.—Leacock's our man; and the sooner I get him locked up, the better I'll feel."

"That may be to-morrow," Markham encouraged him. "So don't feel downcast over this little delay. . . . You're keeping the Captain under surveillance, aren't you?"

"I'll say so," grinned Heath.

Vance turned to Markham.

"What about that list of names you made out for the Sergeant?" he asked ingenuously. "I understood you to say something about alibis."

Markham hesitated, frowning. Then he handed Heath the paper containing the names Vance had called off to him.

"As a matter of caution, Sergeant," he said morosely, "I wish you'd get me the alibis of all these