ing them, to understand Miss Mattie Patello's references to her paternal parent.
"Sorry to intrude upon you, Mr. Patello," he began as the master of the house stood before him, nervously rubbing a pair of delicate-looking hands and blinking wonderingly at his visitor. "I called to see if you could give me a little information. The fact is, sir, I'm a police-officer—my card, Mr. Patello—and I'm enquiring into the disappearance of a young lady who left her lodgings three evenings ago and has never been heard of since. Name of Mortover, Mr. Patello."
Mr. Patello started and stared: Wedgwood saw that his surprise was real.
"Mortover?" he said wonderingly. "I know that name, to be sure, sir! But I can't say I know any young lady of that name. An uncommon name, too, sir, is that!"
"Very uncommon, I believe, Mr. Patello—I never heard it till recently. This young lady's name is Avice Mortover. You don't know her?"
"Never heard of anybody of that name, Avice Mortover, in my life, sir! Who is she?"
Wedgwood, who had carefully considered his plan of action during his ride to Tooting, went straight to the point.
"Well, Mr. Patello, to be frank with you,
