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THE CLUE OF THE TWISTED CANDLE

between her and the door, with folded arms and that cynical, quiet, contemptuous smile of his upon his handsome face.

"There are many courses which I can adopt," he said slowly. "I can send for the police—when my servants whom you have despatched so thoughtfully have returned, or I can take your punishment into my own hands."

"So far as I am concerned," said the girl coolly, "you may send for the police."

She leant back against the edge of the desk, her hands holding the edge, and faced him without so much as a quaver.

"I do not like the police," mused Kara, when there came a knock at the door.

Kara turned and opened it and after a low strained conversation he returned, closing the door and laid a paper of stamps on the girl's table.

"As I was saying, I do not care for the police, and I prefer my own method. In this particular instance the police obviously would not serve me, because you are not afraid of them and in all probability you are in their pay—am I right in

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