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 American robbery, worked by a disciplined gang, and somehow your pal Beaumanoir is entangled. The day he was at our house he tried vaguely to warn Leonie. Hinted that Sherman should be warned to be careful.” Forsyth heard the amazing theory with an inward qualm lest his shrewd old relative should have hit on the solution of the puzzle, and it filled him with greater apprehension than even the physical peril of the Duke had instilled. “Entanglement” in Beaumanoir’s case could only mean complicity, for if his knowledge of the scheme was not a guilty knowledge, if he had become possessed of the secret accidentally, why did he not invoke the aid of the police and expose the conspirators? Forsyth saw that the General read what was passing in his mind, and he clutched at the only visible straw in defence of his friend.

“If Beaumanoir was culpably implicated these scoundrels wouldn’t want to kill him, any more than he would want to queer their game by having Senator Sherman warned,” he said. “There you put your finger on the crux,” replied the General, who disliked the raising of questions which he could not answer. “And,” proceeded Forsyth, pursuing his