knife to Coghlan. "Yours?" Coghlan was panting. "Yes--I use it as a letter-opener on my desk. How'd it get here?" "I suspect," said Ghalil, "that Appolonius picked it up when he visited you today." He began to brush off his uniform. He still breathed hard. Mannard said indignantly, "I don't get this! Did Appolonius try to kill me? In Heaven's name why? What would he get out of it?" Ghalil finished the brushing process. He said with a sigh: "When M. Duval first brought me that incredible book, I put routine police inquiries through on everyone who might be involved. You, Mr. Mannard. Mr. Coghlan. Of course M. Duval himself. And even Appolonius the Great. The last information about him came only today. It appears that in Rome, in Madrid, and in Paris he has been the close friend of three rich men of whom one died in an automobile accident, one apparently of a heart attack, and one seemed to have committed suicide. It is no coincidence, I imagine, that each had given Appolonius a large check for his alleged countrymen only a few days before his death. I think that is the answer, Mr. Mannard." "But I've given him no money!" protested Mannard blankly. "He did say he'd gotten money, of course, but--" and suddenly he stopped short. "Damnation! A forged check going through the clearing-house! It had to be deposited while I was alive! And I had to be dead before it was cleared, or I'd say it was a forgery! If I was dead, it wouldn't be questioned--" "Just so," said Ghalil. "Unfortunately, the banks have not had time to look through their records. I expect that information tomorrow." Laurie put her hand on Coghlan's arm. Mannard said abruptly: "You moved fast, Tommy! You and the lieutenant together. How'd you know to jump him when the lights went out?" "I didn't know," admitted Coghlan. "But I saw him looking at that wrist-watch of his, with the second-hand sweeping around. He showed me a trick today, at my apartment, that depended on his knowing to a split-second when something was going to happen. I was just thinking that if he'd been expecting the lights to go out last night, he could have been triggered to throw you downstairs. Then the lights went out here--and I jumped." "It was desperation," Ghalil interposed. "He has tried four several times to assassinate you, Mr. Mannard." "You said something like that--" "You have been under guard," admitted Ghalil, "since the moment M. Duval showed me that book with the strange record in it. You had rented an automobile. My men found a newly contrived defect in its muffler, so that deadly carbon-monoxide poured into the back of it. It was remedied. A bomb was mailed to you, and reached you day before yesterday--before I first spoke to Mr. Coghlan. It was--" he smiled apologetically--"intercepted. Today he tried to 

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