After usual incidents of ship life, Sir Donald and Esther are at Calcutta.

A few days were spent in rest and sight-seeing before active search for the Dodge family was begun. Sir Donald had been in the neighborhood of the former Dodge home, and by inquiry learned that the family had moved. Questions as to present whereabouts of former occupants failed to elicit any satisfactory information. All that he heard from the neighbors was that Mrs. Dodge and children left suddenly in a closed conveyance, never returning nor disposing of the house furniture. The owner had taken possession of the premises and leased to another tenant.

Having inquired every day for about two weeks and learned nothing more of this family, Sir Donald concluded to make thorough search.

The postoffice, rent-collecting agencies, hospitals, and poor lists, hotel-registers, mortuary records, with many other means of discovery, were unavailingly employed. Investigation at the bank where Mary Dodge drew the hundred pounds failed to disclose any clew to the identity of the depositor or of her movements.

Difficulties served to whet Sir Donald's desire for success. He employed discreet persons to search different districts of the city and enlisted the police in locating the Dodge family. In this way much time passed, but no clew was found.

Sir Donald pressed this search, not only because of interest in the welfare of the family, but as likely to furnish additional links in the chain of circumstantial proofs against the Laniers. He doubted not that Pierre Lanier had effected their removal.

From London advices he learned that this villain was then in Calcutta, disguised, but shadowed by detectives who were not to be hampered in their methods. To Esther he said:

"If these sleuths knew of the Paris confession and would coÖperate with me, how easily the family might be located. But this would necessitate taking them into the Dodge confidence with all its perils for that unhappy man. This I must not do. For me to do such a thing is impossible. I am handicapped by scruples having no warrant in legal code, but more autocratic than mandate of Kaiser or Czar."

Esther resumes her Paris habit of visiting at the hospitals. Sir Donald occasionally accompanies his daughter. Returning from one of these calls, Esther speaks of the curious actions of a shabbily dressed old man then in sight, whom she often had met. Sir Donald recalls frequently having seen this same seedy, aged individual. They slowly walk along with well-dissembled unconcern, turning several unusual corners, with the old pedestrian always in view. They will keep watch of this stranger without arousing his suspicion.

That afternoon Sir Donald employed a small boy to accompany him at a short distance, ready at a given signal to follow an old, poorly dressed man, learn his home, and give immediate notice.

In the evening the boy reported having trailed this old party for several hours, until he was lost in a distant part of the city.

The boy was engaged for further service and cautioned not to tell, but to watch every day for Sir Donald's appearance on the street.

This spying is kept up for over a week, the stranger mysteriously disappearing each day at the same place. Turning an angle in a narrow lane, this seedy-looking old chap vanishes as by magic, there being no opening anywhere for his sudden exit. The boy gets scared, and refuses longer to keep up his part of the program.

Sir Donald promises to hire another boy to help in this work. It is arranged that they meet next morning at eight o'clock in front of the hotel, when the two boys will go to the place where the old man so strangely disappeared. Leaving the new assistant in full view of this turn, facing toward the street from which the stranger made the abrupt exit, the other boy is to quickly come back and await Sir Donald.

This ruse is carried out to the letter, with interesting results.

Sir Donald has been kept in sight by this feeble tramp while moving about the city, and the boy warms the accustomed trail until the usual place of disappearance is reached. The new picket runs up, and both boys stroll along down this last turn of narrow lane, following a black-whiskered, neatly dressed, quick-stepping fellow, until entering a stairway he is lost to sight.

The boys return and report.

The game has been located, and Sir Donald can investigate at leisure.

Having driven past this stairway before sunrise of the next day, and noted the surroundings, Sir Donald returns to his hotel, charges the little fellows to say nothing, pays them well, and dispenses with their services.

After making the final turn, this stooping, slow-paced, shabbily dressed form is changed into an erect, agile, dapper, dudish-looking specimen, barring the coal-black beard and heavy moustache. Though this transformation takes place in full view of the juvenile picket, the boy cannot explain any of the details, but is sure of the miracle. A small package is all that is taken up the stairway.

That this disguise was assumed to spy upon Sir Donald's actions is evident. It is quite probable that no stranger would act thus, except he had reasons for wishing not to be identified. Whoever has resorted to such shifts must be interested either in thwarting search for the Dodge family or in unmasking of the Lanier plot. Solution of this affair doubtless will aid in solving one or the other of these vexing problems.

Here again there is difficulty. Sir Donald must neither visit this hiding-place nor openly take part in learning about the man who has been shadowing them. This might defeat or embarrass both investigations. He dislikes confiding in too many people and must tell no one about the Dodge confession, nor will he furnish any clew by which this wretched man may be compromised. After revolving in his mind many plans, Sir Donald concludes to employ two persons who shall constantly shadow this stranger and report.

Though questioned by the men employed in this work, he declines to furnish any explanation of his purposes.

"The pay will be good and the object is honorable. No crisis shall be forced, but I will exercise discretion upon the facts. Full, correct reports are required. Dispatch is not essential."

With double shifts employed in this affair, Sir Donald and Esther pursue their accustomed habits of life in Calcutta.

Though possessing much power of concentration toward the accomplishment of a fixed purpose, Sir Donald could think of other things while exclusive agencies were working out his will. Too many voices were awaiting hearing for him to stop his ears through infatuation of one narrow aim. Specialist fame had little charm for this comprehensive, broad-gauged, yet delicately adjusted soul. One of his odd sayings seemed characteristic of the man:

"If all culture were so much acquired stock for use in a future life, how limited the patrimony of those famous specialists, under new conditions, whose 'occupation is gone.'"

This mutual spying is kept up with no decisive results. Nothing happens to justify Sir Donald in bringing matters to a crisis, and there never seems any certainty that an emergency is in sight. Taking into account all the circumstances, Sir Donald thinks that perhaps this queer masquerader is engaged in special work in hope of thereby locating some criminal. That this human enigma knows something of Sir Donald's purposes in sailing for Calcutta is apparent, but that there is any desire to thwart them is doubtful. Can it be that one of London sleuths in his employ is playing such waiting game, hoping to find William Dodge?

No one knows of the Dodge confession but Esther and Sir Donald. Probably this fellow on detective work to "bag" all or one of the conspirators against Alice Webster had heard of Sir Donald's efforts to locate the Dodge family, and is keeping posted as to results. It is sure that this spy is neither Dodge nor one of the Laniers. Sir Donald will relax the hunt and await results.

With Esther he now rides about the city, paying no apparent heed to other than incidental interests.

Esther enlists her father in little charitable enterprises. She enters into the spirit of these with happy zeal. With quickened pulses and quiet joy, this refined, cultured, sweetly sympathetic girl is tireless in her gentle ministries. Unostentatious in her work, yet such service cannot escape comment.

Charitably inclined people call upon father and daughter. These calls are both welcome and distasteful. Thereby opportunities are brought to their notice, but tinkling notoriety jars upon refined benevolent sense. Overzealous would-be almoners of desired bounties press special claims with deferential yet impertinent persistence.

Jostled and bored by these shallow enthusiasts, Sir Donald and Esther find it expedient to give and minister by stealth. Such course evokes adverse comment, but for this they care little. Hearing of some criticisms upon his failure to contribute through a certain channel, Sir Donald remarks to Esther:

"The rending instinct is not monopolized by that breed anciently stampeded 'down a steep place into the sea.'"

Esther looks puzzled, then shocked, but accepts her father's smile and caress as a full apology.

For several weeks this kind of life is passed, each day having some charity to its account. Though still earnestly hoping that the Dodge family may be found, Sir Donald begins to realize that there are many needy wards not so hard to locate. He becomes impressed with the democracy of human want and with the subtle vibrations of common chords.

Father and daughter have called upon a poor family, about whose destitution they learned on the previous day. Substantials for immediate want are brought. In response to sympathetic questions, the poor, grateful mother tells her pitiful story.

A young mechanic and a trusting, happy girl marry in Edinburgh. He is skillful, with good pay. They live frugally, but in comfort. The firm has a branch house in Calcutta. There is a vacancy, and this young man is offered the position. All expenses of the family for the trip will be paid, and the salary is better. Strongly attached to kindred in Edinburgh, they yet decide to seek better conditions in this far land. They sail, and find their new home pleasant. Promotion follows and life's outlook is cheerful. Four children surround the family board, their future prospects bright, no fear of want harassing the fond parents, who doubt not the permanence of lucrative employment.

A slight dispute arises between manager and foreman. Neither yields the immaterial point, and the small breach widens, resulting in the latter's discharge. He seeks other work, but finds none. Two children sicken and die. The husband soon is stricken with fever, and after a severe sickness of many weeks recovers, but with disordered mind. He becomes violent, and is removed to an asylum. All their savings soon are gone, and the mother, with two hungry children, knows not which way to turn for help. In this dilemma they are visited by a kind-hearted woman whose husband had been bookkeeper for the same firm, but was discharged for dishonesty. Her husband had gone to England on some business, and was now in Bombay, but sent money. Funds and supplies came regularly from this generous friend, but months ago these ceased.

She called at this kind woman's home, but was surprised to learn of her removal, no one knew where. Supplies and money soon were gone, and for several months she and her children lived on scant fare from wages for odd jobs of sewing and housework.

She had been obliged to move into this poor part of the city because of cheaper rents. That week she had met Mary Dodge in one of the narrow lanes and called her by name, but received no response. The woman must have heard her, as she looked scared and hurried on, entering an old cabin just around the corner. Out of work, her children famishing, she met a kind gentleman, who, learning her distress, said he knew of a wealthy Englishman and his daughter, and would acquaint them with her needs.

Without any question, Sir Donald and Esther drove back. In a few hours both returned, a cartload of supplies and some clothing accompanying their conveyance.

Sir Donald inquired where Mary Dodge lived. The thankful woman volunteered to show him, and they drove for some distance, when Esther was left in charge while Mrs. McLaren piloted Sir Donald through winding lanes to within a few rods of the cabin which Mrs. Dodge had been seen entering. Without being observed, they were soon back to the McLaren shanty. Promising to return, father and daughter, much elated, drove to their hotel.

Now that Mary Dodge has been found, discretion must be used. It will not do frankly and fully to discuss with her the situation. Such additional confidence would be fraught with indefinite, harmful results.

Sir Donald plans many ways of getting at the desired information. He will not even tell this wife about having met her husband in Paris until more is known of present feeling between them.

Why did she move so suddenly? What the cause for living secluded in such part of Calcutta? How occurred her poverty? Who advised the change? From whence came means of subsistence? Are marital sentiments still cherished?—were some of the questions first to be solved.

No well defined details of methods to be employed could be arranged, but rising very early, Sir Donald rode over to near the Dodge cabin, accompanied by the driver, who was left in charge of the conveyance. By the early move it was likely no one would follow to spy upon his actions.

Knocking at the low door, he hears hurried movements. Soon a blind is pushed slightly aside, and a scared face peers from the narrow opening. Again knocking, there is no response. To allay any possible fears, he gently says:

"Open to a friend of the family!"

There was something in the tone inspiring confidence, and he was timidly admitted. That inquisitive, frightened look confirmed Sir Donald's fears. Taking the proffered stool, he sat down, much embarrassed.

How shall he broach this sensitive subject and wound anew tender sensibilities of the innocent sufferer from the crimes of others?

Sir Donald follows the sense of compassion, which often is the acme of intrinsic craft. Glancing at the poor cot on which a sick girl is lying, he kindly inquires as to her ailment. Learning that it is some sort of low fever, about which the doctor has not expressed any positive opinion, Sir Donald suggests changes involving outlay of money, and says that these will be attended to at once. In apparently offhand manner, an order is written out on an uptown firm for several articles of food, clothing, bedding, and small household furniture. Handing this to the surprised woman, he remarked:

"It's all right—a part of my business."

Noting that the pleased look had been followed by one of uneasy perplexity, he says:

"Perhaps you are a little modest about presenting such an order, or the firm do not know you, Mrs. Dodge?"

The poor woman knows not what reply to make.

Having won the confidence of Mrs. Dodge, Sir Donald bluntly says:

"Do not be alarmed. I know your name and something of your past, but I am a real friend of the family, and can be trusted. Tell me just as much or little as you please, but let me know all about present troubles. You are not to blame, and your children must be cared for."

Seeing that she still wavered, Sir Donald gently says:

"You need not tell me about anything, but what can I do for you?"

Before time for reply, the sick child feebly said:

"Mamma, isn't papa gone a long time?"

The mother looked frightened, and quickly stepped to the cot, as if to caution the invalid.

"Yes; but, mamma, he has been gone so long, and does not write! Is Bombay a great way off, mamma?"

Moved by impulse to caution the child, motherly instinct toward uttering comforting assurance and wifely loyalty to her husband's safety, the poor woman, stammering incoherently, looked helplessly at Sir Donald.

"But, mamma, the old gentleman said last night that papa might come any time, with lots of money."

Fully convinced that this loyal wife still trusted in her absent husband and was fearful of possible identification, Sir Donald now concludes to learn the whole truth.

Telling Mrs. Dodge that he has news for her, they sit down on a bench at the farther end of the cabin.

Kindly but positively asserting that he knew much more than she about her husband's past life, and could do him much harm, he stated his desire was to help. Some professed friends were Mr. Dodge's enemies, interested in ruining him to shield themselves. These were adroit, and posed as her friends while plotting the ruin of both. It was to save the whole family from deceitful schemes that he now begged her to trust him implicitly, keeping back nothing.

"You owe it to yourself and children to let me know all, that I may help in these troubles."

"Mamma, I dreamed about Brother Benny last night."

Still Mrs. Dodge hesitated.

"Benny reached out his arms and said, 'Come, Sister Nellie!'"

The reserve which Sir Donald's adroit appeals fail to remove yields to that childish clamor, coercive as brooding of halcyon when the wind is still.

How the husband unjustly had been suspected, discharged, and failed to get employment; to what depths of poverty the family had sunk; the fortunate meeting of William Dodge with Pierre Lanier, who had important business and would pay so well; such opportune relief when the family were hungry and destitute; the husband's trip to London and stay in that far-off city; his removal to Bombay, with other incidents previously related at the Paris confession, were told.

Still Mrs. Dodge said nothing about the particular points so vital to Sir Donald.

Money was sent and letters written. Her husband unavoidably was detained for a long time in Bombay, but expected to get the London business finished through negotiations with parties there. It took a long time to hear from Bombay. He gave her money before leaving for London, and she received an additional one hundred pounds. The family lived well, but not extravagantly, on this. She helped a needy woman who had several small children. Her husband wrote that he soon would be home and have more money. About the time he was expected back a friend came and shocked her with the news that influential persons opposed to Pierre Lanier had conspired to procure his arrest along with that of William Dodge. To outwit these enemies both of the Laniers and her husband must disappear. Their tricky foes would watch the mails and harass the Dodge family. For the present all writing must cease, and the Dodge family move. This removal must be prompt, and nothing was to be said about it. She did as advised. Her surprise was great at being conveyed in a roundabout way for several hours, and unloaded with the children, after midnight, in a narrow street. This friend said not to be frightened, as all would soon be fixed, and conducted them through the winding lanes to the cabin. The family had lived there ever since and never heard from William Dodge.

Another pause. Mrs. Dodge hesitates to proceed further. Sir Donald inquires:

"What time did Pierre Lanier call last night?"

Looking straight at Mary Dodge, answer could not be evaded.

"At about ten o'clock."

"Was Paul with him?"

"Yes," is the startled reply.

"Why did they come disguised?"

"Please do not ask me any more!" pleads the poor woman.

"Mrs. Dodge, you and your husband are in danger from these two villains. Tell me everything!"

"They were being shadowed, and I must go with them."

"Why?"

"On account of the London business."

"Were you to go with them to see your husband?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Near the wharf."

"Did you go?"

"No, I could not leave my sick child."

"The steamer arrived last night?"

"Yes."

"You did not see your husband?"

"No."

"He is in danger; tell me all about it!"

Greatly frightened, Mary Dodge continues:

"They urged me to go anyhow, as it would not take long. I positively refused to leave my sick girl at that time of night. Pierre Lanier frowned and Paul looked awfully fierce. They scared me so! It then seemed to me that they would kill us both."

"Why?"

"Pierre owes my husband several hundred pounds, and I know about it."

"Were the Laniers and Mr. Dodge to come back with you to this place?"

"Pierre said for me to go with them to a house; they would leave and soon return with my husband, and we could talk it all over."

"It is well for you that you did not go."

"Why do you think that?"

"You never would have returned."

"But have they murdered my husband?"

"It is probable that your refusal to go saved his life. When did the Laniers say they would again call?"

"When they left, Pierre said:

"'We may call again to-night and bring some one to stay with the children.'

"I replied, 'Do bring William with you!'

"Pierre said:

"'Not yet; it would be unsafe.'"

Realizing that an emergency in the life of the Dodge family is at hand, and that there must be prompt action to prevent tragic results, Sir Donald gives directions.

Mrs. Dodge must stay in the balance of the day, with bolted doors. If at night the Laniers call, she is to admit them. Sir Donald and another man will come in the early evening, and occupy the next room, which shall be without light. She must have only a dim candle in the other room. Watch will be kept of the Lanier movements. If any violence be thought of, she need have no fear of results. Sir Donald and his assistant will protect her.

Much agitated, Mary Dodge consents, fully convinced of Sir Donald's friendly purposes.

That evening at twilight supplies are brought, and the two spies take their places in the dark room.

After about three hours, a knock is heard, and Mary Dodge unbolts the door. Two disguised figures are admitted. From Mrs. Dodge's questions, it is sure they are Pierre and Paul Lanier. An arrangement has been effected by which she can see her husband the next day at two o'clock. The location is given, and she must go heavily veiled. They will not call for her. Neither of them will be present at the meeting. She and her husband can talk matters over and then act for the best.

Not knowing whether to accept or reject this proposition, Mrs. Dodge passes by the slightly open door, and from a signal decides to do as advised. She promises to be on hand at appointed time and place.

Father and son hurry away, elated at their prospects of success in this dark plot.

Leaving his fellow-watcher on guard, Sir Donald returns to the hotel.

Next day, Mary Dodge calls at an old house in the suburbs of Calcutta, and promptly is admitted. Husband and wife are clasped in loving embrace.

At this juncture, Pierre and Paul Lanier emerge from a trapdoor, cutting off escape. With cocked pistols and drawn daggers, they advance upon the terror-stricken pair.

A loud command to stop is heard, while a half-dozen armed men file through the outside door. The Laniers and William Dodge are placed under arrest, handcuffed together, and marched off to prison.

It is hard to say who was more surprised by this unexpected turn, Sir Donald or Mary Dodge.

The head of Calcutta police had been consulted by Sir Donald, was told of the proposed visit at the old house, and he promised to be present in time to prevent any violence from the Laniers. Why had he come with such force and arrested the three? When pressed for an explanation of his conduct in arresting William Dodge, the officer laughed, and said:

"You just wait a while!"

Mary Dodge now suspects the good faith of Sir Donald, but he so earnestly assures her of his own surprise at results that she is convinced.

From cable advices it is sure that the London agency knows nothing about such a move. Sir Donald cabled facts of the arrests to chief of the London detective bureau, and requested instructions. From the reply it is evident that something is wrong.

Recent reports from Bombay make it clear that William Dodge is there, but eludes more definite location. However, tireless vigilance is being used with hopes of success. Letters addressed to William Dodge at Bombay were delivered, but not recently. Pierre and Paul Lanier lived at Bombay and cut a social figure. They posed as wealthy aristocrats, and Paul was lionized. He seemed haughty, but paid for information about eligible heiresses. Both were very much interested in a rich Englishman and his handsome niece. It was rumored that a marriage had been arranged between these young people. The Englishman and old Pierre took a trip to Calcutta together. About the time of their expected return, both Paul and the girl disappeared. It was sure they did not sail from Bombay. The whole affair is shrouded in mystery, but it is reasonably certain that William Dodge and Paul Lanier are somewhere in or near Bombay. Pierre is being shadowed in Calcutta.

This was the substance of London advices previous to the arrests.

That these are honest reports Sir Donald has no doubt. There has been time for both Paul and William Dodge to have sailed from Bombay, but Sir Donald is sure that a mistake has been made. The only evidence of Dodge ever having been in Bombay is that his wife wrote him there, while her husband was actually at Paris. Too, he had learned from Mrs. Dodge that for many weeks Paul has been disguised in Calcutta.

The whole matter is much tangled, and Sir Donald doubts the efficiency of those employed to unravel this web.

The Laniers are puzzled and greatly alarmed. Their captors do not deign to explain. To all indignant protests these reserved officials are evasive. Threats are jokingly parried.

The prisoners are separately jailed. No communication is permitted between them. Days pass without any visits, except for bringing of meals. There is manifested no disposition to engage any of the three in talk upon the subject of their arrests.

William Dodge doubts not that Sir Donald Randolph has betrayed his trust. Though neither of the Laniers nor Dodge had seen him on the day of the arrests, yet all knew he was in Calcutta. The Laniers in disguise frequently had passed him and Esther on the streets.

This indefinite waiting is most trying to the nerves of all. Neither Pierre nor Paul knew what action was taken with Dodge. Both imagined that he was being pumped. Neither knew but that the other was undergoing some sort of prying ordeal.

William Dodge wondered that no one talked to him. Perhaps the Laniers had accused him of the Thames murders. The bringing of that suit in his name, death of Alice Webster, dismissal of the case, with subsequent skulking, aliases and disguises, would make a strong circumstantial chain. Against the charge of murder he could oppose only his own word. His admitted actions, confession, and motive would be conclusive.

William Dodge sees himself on trial for the murder of Alice Webster, with Pierre and Paul Lanier posing as friends of justice, aiding its commissioned officers in vindication of an outraged law.

His weak impulses of fear and self-preservation settled down into a sort of despairing stupor. He had sent for Sir Donald, but either the message was not delivered, or that aristocrat declined to come. Possibly Sir Donald had been refused admittance to the prison. Mary Dodge had not visited her husband in custody, but perhaps such absence was discreet. Still, an almost frantic desire to see his family, at times affected him. Then followed brief stoical relapses, again replaced by fitful determination to tell the whole tale, regardless of results.

As weeks passed without any formal arraignment or attempt to engage them in talk on the subject of their arrests, neither being permitted to see the other or William Dodge, all inquiries for cause of imprisonment smilingly evaded, the strain on both Pierre and Paul became almost unbearable. Either could face definite crises with resourceful, audacious craft, but how meet indefinitely such waiting, obscure, elusive tactics?

All knew they were entitled to speedy arraignment, and that such extended custody without criminal charge, aid of counsel, or confronting of witnesses was a serious abridgment of their rights, but why protest? They were guilty of felonious crimes. Could it advantage these villains to have speedy trials? William Dodge dreaded arraignment. Both Laniers feared the worst. Over against consuming, chafing, harassing uncertainty, is hesitating, cowering dread.

What could be the object of Calcutta police officials in this queer procedure? Why should these sworn conservators of public rights, ruthlessly trample upon statutory prerogatives? Were their oaths mere formal blasphemies?

There is said to be both letter and spirit in statutes. This is an elastic shift. Affirmative rights may be negatived by inadequate remedies. Police supervision is paradoxical. While not versed in subtle interpretations, it is alive to the right of a little wrong.

At length the reserve of jail officials slightly relaxes. There are vague hints that confessions have been made. The prisoners become wildly curious, but replies to their questions are evasive.

Dodge is frantic. Suggestions that could come only from Lanier treachery startle him. His worst fears are to be realized. Doubtless Pierre and Paul have charged him with the Thames murders. Thoroughly convinced of their perfidy, he sends for head of the police department, and confesses all.

Like tactics have been employed with Pierre and Paul. Much disposed as each feels to seek personal safety in charging guilt upon Dodge, neither knows what the other has divulged. Natural secretiveness and craft make each alertly suspicious. Neither Lanier suspects the other of double dealing as to interests of either. Both take refuge in stoical silence.

Finally father and son are brought together in presence of police officials, and jointly informed as to certain parts of the Dodge confession. They look questioningly at each other, neither making any reply. Both seem to see that this meeting was had to remove any hesitation either may have felt, through ignorance of possible admissions or denials of the other.

For days, varying tactics are employed with these astute criminals, but all such fail to elicit from either even a response. At last this inquisition ceases. One day Pierre and Paul Lanier were discharged.

Greatly mystified at this unexpected move, neither cares to press for explanations.

Without arraignment upon any formal charge, William Dodge still chafes in Calcutta prison.