me very well, and I guess I'll just stop here while I'm in London this journey. No, I've no objection to take a hand. But—it seems to me—there's still a lot of difficulty about this young gentleman here—Mr. Lauriston. I read all the papers carefully, and sized up his predicament. Those rings, now?"
Zillah suddenly remembered all that Ayscough had told her that evening. She had forgotten the real motive of her visit to King's Cross in her excitement in listening to the American's story. She now turned to Purdie and the other two.
"I'd forgotten!" she exclaimed. "The danger's still there. Ayscough's been at the shop tonight. The police have had an expert examining those rings, and the rings in the tray. He says there are marks—private, jewellers' marks in the two rings which correspond with marks in our rings. In fact, there's no doubt of it. And now, the police are certain that the two rings did belong to our tray—and—and they're bent on arresting—Andie!"
Lauriston flushed hotly with sheer indignation.
"That's all nonsense—what the police say!" he exclaimed. "I've found out who gave those two rings to my mother! I can prove it! I don't care a hang for the police and their marks—those rings are mine!"
Purdie laid a quiet hand on Lauriston 's arm.
"None of us know yet what you've done or found out at Peebles about the rings," he said. "Tell us! Just give us the brief facts."
"I'm going to," answered Lauriston, still indignant. "I thought the whole thing over as I went down in the
