“Towards the end of that afternoon, just before I was leaving the office, I got a wire from Mr. Fullaway, from Hull.  It was quite short—­it merely informed me that Mr. James Allerdyke was dead, under mysterious circumstances, and that the Nastirsevitch property was missing.  Of course, I knew what that meant, and I drew my own conclusions.

“Now I come to the 14th—­a critical day, so far as I am concerned.  During the morning a parcels-van boy came into the office.  He said that on the previous day, about half-past twelve o’clock, he had brought a small parcel there, addressed to Mr. Fullaway, and had handed it to a gentleman who was reading newspapers, and who had answered ‘Yes’ when inquired of as Mr. Fullaway.  This gentleman—­who, of course, was Van Koon—­had signed for the parcel by scribbling two initials ‘F.  F.’ in the proper space.  The boy, who said he was new to his job, told me that the clerk at the parcels office objected to this as not being a proper signature, and had told him to call next time he was passing and get the thing put right.  He accordingly handed me the sheet, and I, believing that this was some small parcel which Van Koon had taken in, signed for, and placed somewhere in the office or in Mr. Fullaway’s private room, signed my own name, for Franklin Fullaway, over the penciled initials.  And as I did so I noticed that the parcel had been sent from Hull.

“When the boy had gone I looked for that parcel.  I could not find it anywhere.  It was certainly not in the office, nor in any of the rooms of Mr. Fullaway’s suite.  I was half minded to go to Mr. Van Koon and ask about it, but I decided that I wouldn’t; I thought I would wait until Mr. Fullaway returned.  But all the time I was wondering what parcel it could be that was sent from Hull, and certainly dispatched from there on the very evening before Mr. Fullaway’s hurried journey.

“Nothing happened until Mr. Fullaway came back.  Then a lot of things happened all at once.  There was the news he brought about the Hull affair.  Then there was the affair of the French maid.  A great deal got into the newspapers.  Mr. Rayner and I, who live at the same boarding-house, began to discuss matters.  I heard, through Mr. Fullaway, that there was likelihood of a big reward, and I determined to have a try for it—­in conjunction with Mr. Rayner.  And so I kept my own counsel—­I said nothing about the affair of the parcel.”

Fullaway, who had been manifesting signs of impatience and irritation during the last few minutes, here snapped out a question.

“Why didn’t you tell me at once about the parcel?” he demanded.  “It was your duty!”

Miss Slade gave her employer a cool glance.

“Possibly!” she retorted.  “But you are much too careless to be entrusted with secrets, Mr. Fullaway.  I knew that if I told you about that parcel you’d spoil everything at once.  I wanted to do things my own way.  I took my own way—­and it’s come out all right, for everybody.  Now, don’t you or anybody interrupt again—­I’m telling it all in order.”