The Seven Dials Mystery

Jimmy Thesiger was feeling depressed. Avoiding George, whom he suspected of being ready to tackle him on serious subjects, he stole quietly away after lunch. Proficient as he was in details of the Santa Fé boundary dispute, he had no wish to stand an examination on it this minute.

Presently what he hoped would happen came to pass. Loraine Wade, also unaccompanied, strolled down one of the shady garden paths. In a moment Jimmy was by her side. They walked for some minutes in silence and then Jimmy said tentatively:

"Loraine?"

"Yes?"

"Look here, I'm a bad chap at putting things—but what about it? What's wrong with getting a special license and being married and living together happy ever afterwards?"

Loraine displayed no embarrassment at this surprising proposal. Instead she threw back her head and laughed frankly.

"Don't laugh at a chap," said Jimmy reproachfully.

"I can't help it. You were so funny."

"Loraine—you are a little devil."

"I'm not. I'm what's called a thoroughly nice girl."

"Only to those who don't know you—who are taken in by your delusive appearance of meekness and decorum."

"I like your long words."

"All out of cross-word puzzles."

"So educative."

"Loraine dear, don't beat about the bush. Will you or won't you!"

Loraine's face sobered. It took on its characteristic appearance of determination. Her small mouth hardened and her little chin shot out aggressively.

"No, Jimmy. Not while things are as they are at present—all unfinished."

"I know we haven't done what we set out to do," agreed Jimmy. "But all the same—well, it's the end of a chapter. The papers are safe at the Air Ministry. Virtue triumphant. And—for the moment—nothing doing."

"So—let's get married?" said Loraine with a slight smile.

"You've said it. Precisely the idea."

But again Loraine shook her head.

"No, Jimmy. Until this thing's rounded up—until we're safe—"

"You think we're in danger?"

"Don't you?"

Jimmy's cherubic pink face clouded over.

"You're right," he said at last. "If that extraordinary rigmarole of Bundle's is true—and I suppose, incredible as it sounds, it must be true—then we're not safe till we've settled with—No. 7!"

"And the others?"

"No—the others don't count. It's No. 7 with his own ways of working that frightens me. Because I don't know who he is or where to look for him."

Loraine shivered.

"I've been frightened," she said in a low voice. "Ever since Gerry's death...."

"You needn't be frightened. There's nothing for you to be frightened about. You leave everything to me. I tell you, Loraine—I'll get No. 7 yet. Once we get him—well, I don't think there'll be much trouble with the rest of the gang, whoever they are."

"If you get him—and suppose he gets you?"

"Impossible," said Jimmy cheerfully. "I'm much too clever. Always have a good opinion of yourself—that's my motto."

"When I think of the things that might have happened last night—" Loraine shivered.

"Well, they didn't," said Jimmy. "We're both here, safe and sound—though I must admit my arm is confoundedly painful."

"Poor boy."

"Oh, one must expect to suffer in a good cause. And what with my wounds and my cheerful conversation, I've made a complete conquest of Lady Coote."

"Oh! Do you think that important?"

"I've an idea it may come in useful."

"You've got some plan in your mind, Jimmy. What is it?"

"The young hero never tells his plans," said Jimmy firmly. "They mature in the dark."

"You are an idiot, Jimmy."

"I know. I know. That's what everyone says. But I can assure you, Loraine, there's a lot of brain-work going on underneath. Now what about your plans? Got any?"

"Bundle has suggested that I should go to Chimneys with her for a bit."

"Excellent," said Jimmy approvingly. "Nothing could be better. I'd like an eye kept on Bundle anyway. You never know what mad thing she won't be up to next. She's so frightfully unexpected. And the worst of it is, she's so astonishingly successful. I tell you, keeping Bundle out of mischief is a whole-time job."

"Bill ought to look after her," suggested Loraine.

"Bill's pretty busy elsewhere."

"Don't you believe it," said Loraine.

"What? Not the Countess? But the lad's potty about her."

Loraine continued to shake her head.

"There's something there I don't quite understand. But it's not the Countess with Bill—it's Bundle. Why, this morning Bill was talking to me when Mr. Lomax came out and sat down by Bundle. He took her hand or something, and Bill was off like—like a rocket."

"What a curious taste some people have," observed Mr. Thesiger. "Fancy anyone who was talking to you wanting to do anything else. But you surprise me very much, Loraine. I thought our simple Bill was enmeshed in the toils of the beautiful foreign adventuress. Bundle thinks so, I know."

"Bundle may," said Loraine, "but I tell you, Jimmy, it isn't so."

"Then what's the big idea?"

"Don't you think it possible that Bill is doing a bit of sleuthing on his own?"

"Bill? He hasn't got the brains."

"I'm not so sure. When a simple, muscular person like Bill does set out to be subtle, no one ever gives him credit for it."

"And in consequence he can put in some good work. Yes, there's something in that. But all the same I'd never have thought it of Bill. He's doing the Countess's little woolly lamb to perfection. I think you're wrong, you know, Loraine. The Countess is an extraordinarily beautiful woman—not my type, of course," put in Mr. Thesiger hastily—"and old Bill has always had a heart like an hotel."

Loraine shook her head, unconvinced.