I have a sister, Fortune. She is intelligent. She is almost as omniscient as you, my dear fellow, and much more practical. But she can be quite maddening. She is maddening me now. Unfortunately she has no husband. She had too much intelligence. She owns a princely school at Tormouth. I believe it makes her as rich as Rockefeller. She certainly does herself very well. A month ago she wrote to me that a strange thing had happened. In the night one of the mistress's rooms had been turned upside down."
"Do they rag much at girls' schools?" Reggie yawned. "It might be picturesque."
"My wonderful sister wanted me to tell her what it meant. I'm not proud, Fortune. I know my limitations. I did not see myself in a girls' school. Especially as an official. Now she has been writing to me that there are extraordinary developments. The room of another mistress has been upset."
"They do rag in girls' schools! Another advance of women."
"You show levity, Fortune. My sister would not like it. This is a crime. A number of photographs were taken—photographs of girls at the school. And there is no clue to the criminal."
"The great Tormouth mystery. Leader in the Daily Scream—'Brains for Scotland Yard'. But the independent expert found a pink hairpin in the
