“Absolutely certain,” was the reply. “I remember perfectly what was in my hand-bag this morning when I went through it, and the same things are on that table over there now.” “Do you know what was in this package!” said Desmond. “Just a small silver box, oblong and quite plain, about so big,” she indicated the size with her hands, “about as large as a cigarette-box. Nur-el-Din said it was a treasured family possession of hers, and she was afraid of losing it as she traveled about so much. She asked me to say nothing about it and to keep it until the war was over or until she asked me for it.” “Then,” said Desmond, “this clears Nur-el-Din!” “What do you mean,” said Barbara, looking up. “Simply that she wouldn’t have broken into your place and killed your father in order to recover her own package...” “But why on earth should Nur-el-Din be suspected of such a thing?” “Have you heard nothing about this young lady from the Chief?” “Nothing. I had not thought anything about her until daddy discovered an old friend in her last night and introduced me.” The Chief’s infernal caution again! thought Desmond, secretly admiring the care with which that remarkable man, in his own phrase, “sealed both ends of every connection.” “If I’m to work with this girl,” said Desmond to himself, “I’m going to have all the cards on the table here and now,” so forthwith he told her of the Chief’s suspicions of the dancer, the letter recommending her to Bellward found when the cheese merchant had been arrested, and lastly of the black hair which had been discovered on the thongs with which Barbara had been fastened. “And now,” Desmond concluded, “the very next thing we must do is to go to the Chief and tell him about this package of Nur-el-Din’s that is missing.” Barbara interposed quickly. “It’s no use your coming,” she said. “The Chief won’t see you. When he has sent a man on his mission, he refuses to see him again until the work has been done. If he wishes to send for you or communicate with you, he will. But
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