He gets it, said Kitson. "If he came to me to-morrow with proof of his marriage, even if I knew that he had coerced the girl into marriage, I must give him his share -- van Heerden was pretty thorough when he put my dying friend through his examination." His face hardened. "Heavens, I'd give every penny I had in the world to bring that fiend to the gallows, Beale!" His voice shook, and rising abruptly he walked to the window. Presently he turned. "I think there is something in your idea. Get the licence." "Mr. Kitson, I'm going to put all my cards on the table," said Beale quietly, "will you sit down a moment? There are certain facts which we cannot ignore. Fact one is that Oliva Cresswell is in the hands of a man who is absolutely unscrupulous, but has no other object in view than marriage. Her beauty, her charm, all the attractive qualities which appeal to most men and to all brutes have no appeal for him -- to him she is just a money proposition. If he can't marry her, she has no further interest for him." "Wait, please. If we knew where she was we could stop the marriage and indict van Heerden -- but I've an idea that we shan't locate her until it is too late or nearly too late. I can't go hunting with a pack of policemen. I must play a lone hand, or nearly a lone hand. When