MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR. 

ByArthur Morrison

1894

CONTENTS. 

I. THE LENTON CROFT ROBBERIES

II. THE LOSS OF SAMMY CROCKETT

III. THE CASE OF MR. FOGGATT

IV. THE CASE OF THE DIXON TORPEDO

V. THE QUINTON JEWEL AFFAIR

VI. THE STANWAY CAMEO MYSTERY

VII. THE AFFAIR OF THE TORTOISE

MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR. 

I. 

THE LENTON CROFT ROBBERIES. 

Those who retain any memory of the great law cases of fifteen or twentyyears back will remember, at least, the title of that extraordinary willcase, "Bartley _v_. Bartley and others, " which occupied the Probate Courtfor some weeks on end, and caused an amount of public interest rarelyaccorded to any but the cases considered in the other division of the samecourt. The case itself was noted for the large quantity of remarkable andunusual evidence presented by the plaintiff's side--evidence that took theother party completely by surprise, and overthrew their case like a houseof cards. The affair will, perhaps, be more readily recalled as theoccasion of the sudden rise to eminence in their profession of Messrs. Crellan, Hunt & Crellan, solicitors for the plaintiff--a result dueentirely to the wonderful ability shown in this case of building up, apparently out of nothing, a smashing weight of irresistible evidence. That the firm has since maintained--indeed enhanced--the position it thenwon for itself need scarcely be said here; its name is familiar toeverybody. But there are not many of the outside public who know that thecredit of the whole performance was primarily due to a young clerk in theemploy of Messrs. Crellan, who had been given charge of the seeminglydesperate task of collecting evidence in the case. 

This Mr. Martin Hewitt had, however, full credit and reward for hisexploit from his firm and from their client, and more than one other firmof lawyers engaged in contentious work made good offers to entice Hewittto change his employers. Instead of this, however, he determined to workindependently for the future, having conceived the idea of making aregular business of doing, on behalf of such clients as might retain him, similar work to that he had just done with such conspicuous success forMessrs. Crellan, Hunt & Crellan. This was the beginning of the privatedetective business of Martin Hewitt, and his action at that time has beencompletely justified by the brilliant professional successes he has sinceachieved. 

His business has always been conducted in the most private manner, and hehas always declined the help of professional assistants, preferring tocarry out himself such of the many investigations offered him as he couldmanage. He has always maintained that he has never lost by this policy, since the chance of his refusing a case begets competition for hisservices, and his fees rise by a natural process. At the same time, no mancould know better how to employ casual assistance at the right time. 

Some curiosity has been expressed as to Mr. Martin Hewitt's system, and, as he himself always consistently maintains that he has no system beyond ajudicious use of ordinary faculties, I intend setting forth in detail afew of the more interesting of his cases in order that the public mayjudge for itself if I am right in estimating Mr. Hewitt's "ordinaryfaculties" as faculties very extraordinary indeed. He is not a man who hasmade many friendships (this, probably, for professional reasons), notwithstanding his genial and companionable manners. I myself first madehis acquaintance as a result of an accident resulting in a fire at the oldhouse in which Hewitt's office was situated, and in an upper floor ofwhich I occupied bachelor chambers. I was able to help in saving aquantity of extremely important papers relating to his business, and, while repairs were being made, allowed him to lock them in an oldwall-safe in one of my rooms which the fire had scarcely damaged. 

The acquaintance thus begun has lasted many years, and has become a ratherclose friendship. I have even accompanied Hewitt on some of hisexpeditions, and, in a humble way, helped him. Such of the cases, however, as I personally saw nothing of I have put into narrative form from theparticulars given me. 

"I consider you, Brett, " he said, addressing me, "the most remarkablejournalist alive. Not because you're particularly clever, you know, because, between ourselves, I hope you'll admit you're not; but becauseyou have known something of me and my doings for some years, and havenever yet been guilty of giving away any of my little business secrets youmay have become acquainted with. I'm afraid you're not so enterprising ajournalist as some, Brett. But now, since you ask, you shall writesomething--if you think it worth while. "

This he said, as he said most things, with a cheery, chaffing good-naturethat would have been, perhaps, surprising to a stranger who thought of himonly as a grim and mysterious discoverer of secrets and crimes. Indeed, the man had always as little of the aspect of the conventional detectiveas may be imagined. Nobody could appear more cordial or less observant inmanner, although there was to be seen a certain sharpness of theeye--which might, after all, only be the twinkle of good humor. 

I _did_ think it worth while to write something of Martin Hewitt'sinvestigations, and a description of one of his adventures follows. 

 * * * * *

At the head of the first flight of a dingy staircase leading up from anever-open portal in a street by the Strand stood a door, the dustyground-glass upper panel of which carried in its center the single word"Hewitt, " while at its right-hand lower corner, in smaller letters, "Clerk's Office" appeared. On a morning when the clerks in theground-floor offices had barely hung up their hats, a short, well-dressedyoung man, wearing spectacles, hastening to open the dusty door, ran intothe arms of another man who suddenly issued from it. 

"I beg pardon, " the first said. "Is this Hewitt's Detective AgencyOffice?"

"Yes, I believe you will find it so, " the other replied. He was astoutish, clean-shaven man, of middle height, and of a cheerful, roundcountenance. "You'd better speak to the clerk. "

In the little outer office the visitor was met by a sharp lad with inkyfingers, who presented him with a pen and a printed slip. The printed sliphaving been filled with the visitor's name and present business, andconveyed through an inner door, the lad reappeared with an invitation tothe private office. There, behind a writing-table, sat the stoutish manhimself, who had only just advised an appeal to the clerk. 

"Good-morning, Mr. Lloyd--Mr. Vernon Lloyd, " he said, affably, lookingagain at the slip. "You'll excuse my care to start even with myvisitors--I must, you know. You come from Sir James Norris, I see. "

"Yes; I am his secretary. I have only to ask you to go straight to LentonCroft at once, if you can, on very important business. Sir James wouldhave wired, but had not your precise address. Can you go by the nexttrain? Eleven-thirty is the first available from Paddington. "

"Quite possibly. Do you know any thing of the business?"

"It is a case of a robbery in the house, or, rather, I fancy, of severalrobberies. Jewelry has been stolen from rooms occupied by visitors to theCroft. The first case occurred some months ago--nearly a year ago, infact. Last night there was another. But I think you had better get thedetails on the spot. Sir James has told me to telegraph if you are coming, so that he may meet you himself at the station; and I must hurry, as hisdrive to the station will be rather a long one. Then I take it you willgo, Mr. Hewitt? Twyford is the station. "

"Yes, I shall come, and by the 11. 30. Are you going by that trainyourself?"

"No, I have several things to attend to now I am in town. Good-morning; Ishall wire at once. "

Mr. Martin Hewitt locked the drawer of his table and sent his clerk for acab. 

At Twyford Station Sir James Norris was waiting with a dog-cart. Sir Jameswas a tall, florid man of fifty or thereabout, known away from home assomething of a county historian, and nearer his own parts as a greatsupporter of the hunt, and a gentleman much troubled with poachers. Assoon as he and Hewitt had found one another the baronet hurried thedetective into his dog-cart. "We've something over seven miles to drive, "he said, "and I can tell you all about this wretched business as we go. That is why I came for you myself, and alone. "

Hewitt nodded. 

"I have sent for you, as Lloyd probably told you, because of a robbery atmy place last evening. It appears, as far as I can guess, to be one ofthree by the same hand, or by the same gang. Late yesterday afternoon----"

"Pardon me, Sir James, " Hewitt interrupted, "but I think I must ask you tobegin at the first robbery and tell me the whole tale in proper order. Itmakes things clearer, and sets them in their proper shape. "

"Very well! Eleven months ago, or thereabout, I had rather a large partyof visitors, and among them Colonel Heath and Mrs. Heath--the lady being arelative of my own late wife. Colonel Heath has not been long retired, youknow--used to be political resident in an Indian native state. Mrs. Heathhad rather a good stock of jewelry of one sort and another, about the mostvaluable piece being a bracelet set with a particularly fine pearl--quitean exceptional pearl, in fact--that had been one of a heap of presentsfrom the maharajah of his state when Heath left India. 

"It was a very noticeable bracelet, the gold setting being a merefeather-weight piece of native filigree work--almost too fragile to truston the wrist--and the pearl being, as I have said, of a size and qualitynot often seen. Well, Heath and his wife arrived late one evening, andafter lunch the following day, most of the men being off bythemselves--shooting, I think--my daughter, my sister (who is very oftendown here), and Mrs. Heath took it into their heads to gowalking--fern-hunting, and so on. My sister was rather long dressing, and, while they waited, my daughter went into Mrs. Heath's room, where Mrs. Heath turned over all her treasures to show her, as women do, you know. When my sister was at last ready, they came straight away, leaving thethings littering about the room rather than stay longer to pack them up. The bracelet, with other things, was on the dressing-table then. "

"One moment. As to the door?"

"They locked it. As they came away my daughter suggested turning the key, as we had one or two new servants about. "

"And the window?"

"That they left open, as I was going to tell you. Well, they went on theirwalk and came back, with Lloyd (whom they had met somewhere) carryingtheir ferns for them. It was dusk and almost dinner-time. Mrs. Heath wentstraight to her room, and--the bracelet was gone. "

"Was the room disturbed?"

"Not a bit. Everything was precisely where it had been left, except thebracelet. The door hadn't been tampered with, but of course the window wasopen, as I have told you. "

"You called the police, of course?"

"Yes, and had a man from Scotland Yard down in the morning. He seemed apretty smart fellow, and the first thing he noticed on the dressing-table, within an inch or two of where the bracelet had been, was a match, whichhad been lit and thrown down. Now nobody about the house had had occasionto use a match in that room that day, and, if they had, certainly wouldn'thave thrown it on the cover of the dressing-table. So that, presuming thethief to have used that match, the robbery must have been committed whenthe room was getting dark--immediately before Mrs. Heath returned, infact. The thief had evidently struck the match, passed it hurriedly overthe various trinkets lying about, and taken the most valuable. "

"Nothing else was even moved?"

"Nothing at all. Then the thief must have escaped by the window, althoughit was not quite clear how. The walking party approached the house with afull view of the window, but saw nothing, although the robbery must havebeen actually taking place a moment or two before they turned up. 

"There was no water-pipe within any practicable distance of the window, but a ladder usually kept in the stable-yard was found lying along theedge of the lawn. The gardener explained, however, that he had put theladder there after using it himself early in the afternoon. "

"Of course it might easily have been used again after that and put back. "

"Just what the Scotland Yard man said. He was pretty sharp, too, on thegardener, but very soon decided that he knew nothing of it. No strangerhad been seen in the neighborhood, nor had passed the lodge gates. Besides, as the detective said, it scarcely seemed the work of a stranger. A stranger could scarcely have known enough to go straight to the roomwhere a lady--only arrived the day before--had left a valuable jewel, andaway again without being seen. So all the people about the house weresuspected in turn. The servants offered, in a body, to have their boxessearched, and this was done; everything was turned over, from the butler'sto the new kitchen-maid's. I don't know that I should have had thiscarried quite so far if I had been the loser myself, but it was my guest, and I was in such a horrible position. Well, there's little more to besaid about that, unfortunately. Nothing came of it all, and the thing's asgreat a mystery now as ever. I believe the Scotland Yard man got as far assuspecting _me_ before he gave it up altogether, but give it up he did inthe end. I think that's all I know about the first robbery. Is it clear?"

"Oh, yes; I shall probably want to ask a few questions when I have seenthe place, but they can wait. What next?"

"Well, " Sir James pursued, "the next was a very trumpery affair, that Ishould have forgotten all about, probably, if it hadn't been for onecircumstance. Even now I hardly think it could have been the work of thesame hand. Four months or thereabout after Mrs. Heath's disaster--inFebruary of this year, in fact--Mrs. Armitage, a young widow, who had beena school-fellow of my daughter's, stayed with us for a week or so. Thegirls don't trouble about the London season, you know, and I have no townhouse, so they were glad to have their old friend here for a little in thedull time. Mrs. Armitage is a very active young lady, and was scarcely inthe house half an hour before she arranged a drive in a pony-cart withEva--my daughter--to look up old people in the village that she used toknow before she was married. So they set off in the afternoon, and madesuch a round of it that they were late for dinner. Mrs. Armitage had asmall plain gold brooch--not at all valuable, you know; two or threepounds, I suppose--which she used to pin up a cloak or anything of thatsort. Before she went out she stuck this in the pin-cushion on herdressing-table, and left a ring--rather a good one, I believe--lying closeby. "

"This, " asked Hewitt, "was not in the room that Mrs. Heath had occupied, Itake it?"

"No; this was in another part of the building. Well, the broochwent--taken, evidently, by some one in a deuce of a hurry, for, when Mrs. Armitage got back to her room, there was the pin-cushion with a littletear in it, where the brooch had been simply snatched off. But the curiousthing was that the ring--worth a dozen of the brooch--was left where ithad been put. Mrs. Armitage didn't remember whether or not she had lockedthe door herself, although she found it locked when she returned; but myniece, who was indoors all the time, went and tried it once--because sheremembered that a gas-fitter was at work on the landing near by--and foundit safely locked. The gas-fitter, whom we didn't know at the time, but whosince seems to be quite an honest fellow, was ready to swear that nobodybut my niece had been to the door while he was in sight of it--which wasalmost all the time. As to the window, the sash-line had broken that verymorning, and Mrs. Armitage had propped open the bottom half about eight orten inches with a brush; and, when she returned, that brush, sash, and allwere exactly as she had left them. Now I scarcely need tell _you_ what anawkward job it must have been for anybody to get noiselessly in at thatunsupported window; and how unlikely he would have been to replace it, with the brush, exactly as he found it. "

"Just so. I suppose the brooch, was really gone? I mean, there was nochance of Mrs. Armitage having mislaid it?"

"Oh, none at all! There was a most careful search. "

"Then, as to getting in at the window, would it have been easy?"

"Well, yes, " Sir James replied; "yes, perhaps it would. It was afirst-floor window, and it looks over the roof and skylight of thebilliard-room. I built the billiard-room myself--built it out from asmoking-room just at this corner. It would be easy enough to get at thewindow from the billiard-room roof. But, then, " he added, "that couldn'thave been the way. Somebody or other was in the billiard-room the wholetime, and nobody could have got over the roof (which is nearly allskylight) without being seen and heard. I was there myself for an hour ortwo, taking a little practice. "

"Well, was anything done?"

"Strict inquiry was made among the servants, of course, but nothing cameof it. It was such a small matter that Mrs. Armitage wouldn't hear of mycalling in the police or anything of that sort, although I felt prettycertain that there must be a dishonest servant about somewhere. A servantmight take a plain brooch, you know, who would feel afraid of a valuablering, the loss of which would be made a greater matter of. "

"Well, yes, perhaps so, in the case of an inexperienced thief, who alsowould be likely to snatch up whatever she took in a hurry. But I'mdoubtful. What made you connect these two robberies together?"

"Nothing whatever--for some months. They seemed quite of a different sort. But scarcely more than a month ago I met Mrs. Armitage at Brighton, and wetalked, among other things, of the previous robbery--that of Mrs. Heath'sbracelet. I described the circumstances pretty minutely, and, when Imentioned the match found on the table, she said: 'How strange! Why, _my_thief left a match on the dressing-table when he took my poor littlebrooch!'"

Hewitt nodded. "Yes, " he said. "A spent match, of course?"

"Yes, of course, a spent match. She noticed it lying close by thepin-cushion, but threw it away without mentioning the circumstance. Still, it seemed rather curious to me that a match should be lit and dropped, ineach case, on the dressing-cover an inch from where the article was taken. I mentioned it to Lloyd when I got back, and he agreed that it seemedsignificant. "

"Scarcely, " said Hewitt, shaking his head. "Scarcely, so far, to be calledsignificant, although worth following up. Everybody uses matches in thedark, you know. "

"Well, at any rate, the coincidence appealed to me so far that it struckme it might be worth while to describe the brooch to the police in orderthat they could trace it if it had been pawned. They had tried that, ofcourse, over the bracelet without any result, but I fancied the shot mightbe worth making, and might possibly lead us on the track of the moreserious robbery. "

"Quite so. It was the right thing to do. Well?"

"Well, they found it. A woman had pawned it in London--at a shop inChelsea. But that was some time before, and the pawnbroker had cleanforgotten all about the woman's appearance. The name and address she gavewere false. So that was the end of that business. "

"Had any of the servants left you between the time the brooch was lost andthe date of the pawn ticket?"

"No. "

"Were all your servants at home on the day the brooch was pawned?"

"Oh, yes! I made that inquiry myself. "

"Very good! What next?"

"Yesterday--and this is what made me send for you. My late wife's sistercame here last Tuesday, and we gave her the room from which Mrs. Heathlost her bracelet. She had with her a very old-fashioned brooch, containing a miniature of her father, and set in front with three veryfine brilliants and a few smaller stones. Here we are, though, at theCroft. I'll tell you the rest indoors. "

Hewitt laid his hand on the baronet's arm. "Don't pull up, Sir James, " hesaid. "Drive a little farther. I should like to have a general idea of thewhole case before we go in. "

"Very good!" Sir James Norris straightened the horse's head again and wenton. "Late yesterday afternoon, as my sister-in-law was changing her dress, she left her room for a moment to speak to my daughter in her room, almostadjoining. She was gone no more than three minutes, or five at most, buton her return the brooch, which had been left on the table, had gone. Nowthe window was shut fast, and had not been tampered with. Of course thedoor was open, but so was my daughter's, and anybody walking near musthave been heard. But the strangest circumstance, and one that almost makesme wonder whether I have been awake to-day or not, was that there lay _aused match_ on the very spot, as nearly as possible, where the brooch hadbeen--and it was broad daylight!"

Hewitt rubbed his nose and looked thoughtfully before him. "Um--curious, certainly, " he said, "Anything else?"

"Nothing more than you shall see for yourself. I have had the room lockedand watched till you could examine it. My sister-in-law had heard of yourname, and suggested that you should be called in; so, of course, I didexactly as she wanted. That she should have lost that brooch, of allthings, in my house is most unfortunate; you see, there was some smalldifference about the thing between my late wife and her sister when theirmother died and left it. It's almost worse than the Heaths' braceletbusiness, and altogether I'm not pleased with things, I can assure you. See what a position it is for me! Here are three ladies, in the space ofone year, robbed one after another in this mysterious fashion in my house, and I can't find the thief! It's horrible! People will be afraid to comenear the place. And I can do nothing!"

"Ah, well, we'll see. Perhaps we had better turn back now. By-the-by, wereyou thinking of having any alterations or additions made to your house?"

"No. What makes you ask?"

"I think you might at least consider the question of painting anddecorating, Sir James--or, say, putting up another coach-house, orsomething. Because I should like to be (to the servants) the architect--orthe builder, if you please--come to look around. You haven't told any ofthem about this business?"

"Not a word. Nobody knows but my relatives and Lloyd. I took everyprecaution myself, at once. As to your little disguise, be the architectby all means, and do as you please. If you can only find this thief andput an end to this horrible state of affairs, you'll do me the greatestservice I've ever asked for--and as to your fee, I'll gladly make itwhatever is usual, and three hundred in addition. "

Martin Hewitt bowed. "You're very generous, Sir James, and you may be sureI'll do what I can. As a professional man, of course, a good fee alwaysstimulates my interest, although this case of yours certainly seemsinteresting enough by itself. "

"Most extraordinary! Don't you think so? Here are three persons, allladies, all in my house, two even in the same room, each successivelyrobbed of a piece of jewelry, each from a dressing-table, and a used matchleft behind in every case. All in the most difficult--one would sayimpossible--circumstances for a thief, and yet there is no clue!"

"Well, we won't say that just yet, Sir James; we must see. And we mustguard against any undue predisposition to consider the robberies in alump. Here we are at the lodge gate again. Is that your gardener--the manwho left the ladder by the lawn on the first occasion you spoke of?"

Mr. Hewitt nodded in the direction of a man who was clipping a box border. 

"Yes; will you ask him anything?"

"No, no; at any rate, not now. Remember the building alterations. I think, if there is no objection, I will look first at the room that thelady--Mrs. ----" Hewitt looked up, inquiringly. 

"My sister-in-law? Mrs. Cazenove. Oh, yes! you shall come to her room atonce. "

"Thank you. And I think Mrs. Cazenove had better be there. "

They alighted, and a boy from the lodge led the horse and dog-cart away. 

Mrs. Cazenove was a thin and faded, but quick and energetic, lady ofmiddle age. She bent her head very slightly on learning Martin Hewitt'sname, and said: "I must thank you, Mr. Hewitt, for your very promptattention. I need scarcely say that any help you can afford in tracing thethief who has my property--whoever it may be--will make me most grateful. My room is quite ready for you to examine. "

The room was on the second floor--the top floor at that part of thebuilding. Some slight confusion of small articles of dress was observablein parts of the room. 

"This, I take it, " inquired Hewitt, "is exactly as it was at the time thebrooch was missed?"

"Precisely, " Mrs. Cazenove answered. "I have used another room, and putmyself to some other inconveniences, to avoid any disturbance. "

Hewitt stood before the dressing-table. "Then this is the used match, " heobserved, "exactly where it was found?"

"Yes. "

"Where was the brooch?"

"I should say almost on the very same spot. Certainly no more than a veryfew inches away. "

Hewitt examined the match closely. "It is burned very little, " heremarked. "It would appear to have gone out at once. Could you hear itstruck?"

"I heard nothing whatever; absolutely nothing. "

"If you will step into Miss Norris' room now for a moment, " Hewittsuggested, "we will try an experiment. Tell me if you hear matches struck, and how many. Where is the match-stand?"

The match-stand proved to be empty, but matches were found in Miss Norris'room, and the test was made. Each striking could be heard distinctly, evenwith one of the doors pushed to. 

"Both your own door and Miss Norris' were open, I understand; the windowshut and fastened inside as it is now, and nothing but the brooch wasdisturbed?"

"Yes, that was so. "

"Thank you, Mrs. Cazenove. I don't think I need trouble you any furtherjust at present. I think, Sir James, " Hewitt added, turning to thebaronet, who was standing by the door----"I think we will see the otherroom and take a walk outside the house, if you please. I suppose, by theby, that there is no getting at the matches left behind on the first andsecond occasions?"

"No, " Sir James answered. "Certainly not here. The Scotland Yard man mayhave kept his. "

The room that Mrs. Armitage had occupied presented no peculiar feature. Afew feet below the window the roof of the billiard-room was visible, consisting largely of skylight. Hewitt glanced casually about the walls, ascertained that the furniture and hangings had not been materiallychanged since the second robbery, and expressed his desire to see thewindows from the outside. Before leaving the room, however, he wished toknow the names of any persons who were known to have been about the houseon the occasions of all three robberies. 

"Just carry your mind back, Sir James, " he said. "Begin with yourself, forinstance. Where were you at these times?"

"When Mrs. Heath lost her bracelet, I was in Tagley Wood all theafternoon. When Mrs. Armitage was robbed, I believe I was somewhere aboutthe place most of the time she was out. Yesterday I was down at the farm. "Sir James' face broadened. "I don't know whether you call those suspiciousmovements, " he added, and laughed. 

"Not at all; I only asked you so that, remembering your own movements, youmight the better recall those of the rest of the household. Was anybody, to your knowledge--_anybody_, mind--in the house on all three occasions?"

"Well, you know, it's quite impossible to answer for all the servants. You'll only get that by direct questioning--I can't possibly rememberthings of that sort. As to the family and visitors--why, you don't suspectany of them, do you?"

"I don't suspect a soul, Sir James, " Hewitt answered, beaming genially, "not a soul. You see, I can't suspect people till I know something aboutwhere they were. It's quite possible there will be independent evidenceenough as it is, but you must help me if you can. The visitors, now. Wasthere any visitor here each time--or even on the first and last occasionsonly?"

"No, not one. And my own sister, perhaps you will be pleased to know, wasonly there at the time of the first robbery. "

"Just so! And your daughter, as I have gathered, was clearly absent fromthe spot each time--indeed, was in company with the party robbed. Yourniece, now?"

"Why hang it all, Mr. Hewitt, I can't talk of my niece as a suspectedcriminal! The poor girl's under my protection, and I really can'tallow----"

Hewitt raised his hand, and shook his head deprecatingly. 

"My dear sir, haven't I said that I don't suspect a soul? _Do_ let me knowhow the people were distributed, as nearly as possible. Let me see. It wasyour, niece, I think, who found that Mrs. Armitage's door was locked--thisdoor, in fact--on the day she lost her brooch?"

"Yes, it was. "

"Just so--at the time when Mrs. Armitage herself had forgotten whether shelocked it or not. And yesterday--was she out then?"

"No, I think not. Indeed, she goes out very little--her health is usuallybad. She was indoors, too, at the time of the Heath robbery, since youask. But come, now, I don't like this. It's ridiculous to suppose that_she_ knows anything of it. "

"I don't suppose it, as I have said. I am only asking for information. That is all your resident family, I take it, and you know nothing ofanybody else's movements--except, perhaps, Mr. Lloyd's?"

"Lloyd? Well, you know yourself that he was out with the ladies when thefirst robbery took place. As to the others, I don't remember. Yesterday hewas probably in his room, writing. I think that acquits _him_, eh?" SirJames looked quizzically into the broad face of the affable detective, whosmiled and replied:

"Oh, of course nobody can be in two places at once, else what would becomeof the _alibi_ as an institution? But, as I have said, I am only settingmy facts in order. Now, you see, we get down to the servants--unless somestranger is the party wanted. Shall we go outside now?"

Lenton Croft was a large, desultory sort of house, nowhere more than threefloors high, and mostly only two. It had been added to bit by bit, till itzigzagged about its site, as Sir James Norris expressed it, "like a gameof dominoes. " Hewitt scrutinized its external features carefully as theystrolled around, and stopped some little while before the windows of thetwo bed-rooms he had just seen from the inside. Presently they approachedthe stables and coach-house, where a groom was washing the wheels of thedog-cart. 

"Do you mind my smoking?" Hewitt asked Sir James. "Perhaps you will take acigar yourself--they are not so bad, I think. I will ask your man for alight. "

Sir James felt for his own match-box, but Hewitt had gone, and waslighting his cigar with a match from a box handed him by the groom. Asmart little terrier was trotting about by the coach-house, and Hewittstooped to rub its head. Then he made some observation about the dog, which enlisted the groom's interest, and was soon absorbed in a chat withthe man. Sir James, waiting a little way off, tapped the stones ratherimpatiently with his foot, and presently moved away. 

For full a quarter of an hour Hewitt chatted with the groom, and, when atlast he came away and overtook Sir James, that gentleman was aboutre-entering the house. 

"I beg your pardon, Sir James, " Hewitt said, "for leaving you in thatunceremonious fashion to talk to your groom, but a dog, Sir James--a gooddog--will draw me anywhere. "

"Oh!" replied Sir James, shortly. 

"There is one other thing, " Hewitt went on, disregarding the other'scurtness, "that I should like to know: There are two windows directlybelow that of the room occupied yesterday by Mrs. Cazenove--one on eachfloor. What rooms do they light?"

"That on the ground floor is the morning-room; the other is Mr. Lloyd's--my secretary. A sort of study or sitting-room. "

"Now you will see at once, Sir James, " Hewitt pursued, with an affabledetermination to win the baronet back to good-humor--"you will see at oncethat, if a ladder had been used in Mrs. Heath's case, anybody looking fromeither of these rooms would have seen it. "

"Of course! The Scotland Yard man questioned everybody as to that, butnobody seemed to have been in either of the rooms when the thing occurred;at any rate, nobody saw anything. "

"Still, I think I should like to look out of those windows myself; itwill, at least, give me an idea of what _was_ in view and what was not, ifanybody had been there. "

Sir James Norris led the way to the morning-room. As they reached the doora young lady, carrying a book and walking very languidly, came out. Hewittstepped aside to let her pass, and afterward said interrogatively: "MissNorris, your daughter, Sir James?"

"No, my niece. Do you want to ask her anything? Dora, my dear, " Sir Jamesadded, following her in the corridor, "this is Mr. Hewitt, who isinvestigating these wretched robberies for me. I think he would like tohear if you remember anything happening at any of the three times. "

The lady bowed slightly, and said in a plaintive drawl: "I, uncle? Really, I don't remember anything; nothing at all. "

"You found Mrs. Armitage's door locked, I believe, " asked Hewitt, "whenyou tried it, on the afternoon when she lost her brooch?"

"Oh, yes; I believe it was locked. Yes, it was. "

"Had the key been left in?"

"The key? Oh, no! I think not; no. "

"Do you remember anything out of the common happening--anything whatever, no matter how trivial--on the day Mrs. Heath lost her bracelet?"

"No, really, I don't. I can't remember at all. "

"Nor yesterday?"

"No, nothing. I don't remember anything. "

"Thank you, " said Hewitt, hastily; "thank you. Now the morning-room, SirJames. "

In the morning-room Hewitt stayed but a few seconds, doing little morethan casually glance out of the windows. In the room above he took alittle longer time. It was a comfortable room, but with rather effeminateindications about its contents. Little pieces of draped silk-work hungabout the furniture, and Japanese silk fans decorated the mantel-piece. Near the window was a cage containing a gray parrot, and the writing-tablewas decorated with two vases of flowers. 

"Lloyd makes himself pretty comfortable, eh?" Sir James observed. "But itisn't likely anybody would be here while he was out, at the time thatbracelet went. "

"No, " replied Hewitt, meditatively. "No, I suppose not. "

He stared thoughtfully out of the window, and then, still deep in thought, rattled at the wires of the cage with a quill toothpick and played amoment with the parrot. Then, looking up at the window again, he said:"That is Mr. Lloyd, isn't it, coming back in a fly?"

"Yes, I think so. Is there anything else you would care to see here?"

"No, thank you, " Hewitt replied; "I don't think there is. "

They went down to the smoking-room, and Sir James went away to speak tohis secretary. When he returned, Hewitt said quietly: "I think, SirJames--I _think_ that I shall be able to give you your thief presently. "

"What! Have you a clue? Who do you think? I began to believe you werehopelessly stumped. "

"Well, yes. I have rather a good clue, although I can't tell you muchabout it just yet. But it is so good a clue that I should like to know nowwhether you are determined to prosecute when you have the criminal?"

"Why, bless me, of course, " Sir James replied, with surprise. "It doesn'trest with me, you know--the property belongs to my friends. And even ifthey were disposed to let the thing slide, I shouldn't allow it--Icouldn't, after they had been robbed in my house. "

"Of course, of course! Then, if I can, I should like to send a message toTwyford by somebody perfectly trustworthy--not a servant. Could anybodygo?"

"Well, there's Lloyd, although he's only just back from his journey. But, if it's important, he'll go. "

"It is important. The fact is we must have a policeman or two here thisevening, and I'd like Mr. Lloyd to fetch them without telling anybodyelse. "

Sir James rang, and, in response to his message, Mr. Lloyd appeared. WhileSir James gave his secretary his instructions, Hewitt strolled to the doorof the smoking-room, and intercepted the latter as he came out. 

"I'm sorry to give you this trouble, Mr. Lloyd, " he said, "but I must stayhere myself for a little, and somebody who can be trusted must go. Willyou just bring back a police-constable with you? or rather two--two wouldbe better. That is all that is wanted. You won't let the servants know, will you? Of course there will be a female searcher at the Twyfordpolice-station? Ah--of course. Well, you needn't bring her, you know. Thatsort of thing is done at the station. " And, chatting thus confidentially, Martin Hewitt saw him off. 

When Hewitt returned to the smoking-room, Sir James said, suddenly: "Why, bless my soul, Mr. Hewitt, we haven't fed you! I'm awfully sorry. We camein rather late for lunch, you know, and this business has bothered me so Iclean forgot everything else. There's no dinner till seven, so you'dbetter let me give you something now. I'm really sorry. Come along. "

"Thank you, Sir James, " Hewitt replied; "I won't take much. A fewbiscuits, perhaps, or something of that sort. And, by the by, if you don'tmind, I rather think I should like to take it alone. The fact is I want togo over this case thoroughly by myself. Can you put me in a room?"

"Any room you like. Where will you go? The dining-room's rather large, butthere's my study, that's pretty snug, or----"

"Perhaps I can go into Mr. Lloyd's room for half an hour or so; I don'tthink he'll mind, and it's pretty comfortable. "

"Certainly, if you'd like. I'll tell them to send you whatever they'vegot. "

"Thank you very much. Perhaps they'll also send me a lump of sugar and awalnut; it's--it's a little fad of mine. "

"A--what? A lump of sugar and a walnut?" Sir James stopped for a moment, with his hand on the bell-rope. "Oh, certainly, if you'd like it;certainly, " he added, and stared after this detective with curious tastesas he left the room. 

When the vehicle, bringing back the secretary and the policeman, drew upon the drive, Martin Hewitt left the room on the first floor and proceededdown-stairs. On the landing he met Sir James Norris and Mrs. Cazenove, whostared with astonishment on perceiving that the detective carried in hishand the parrot-cage. 

"I think our business is about brought to a head now, " Hewitt remarked, onthe stairs. "Here are the police officers from Twyford. " The men werestanding in the hall with Mr. Lloyd, who, on catching sight of the cage inHewitt's hand, paled suddenly. 

"This is the person who will be charged, I think, " Hewitt pursued, addressing the officers, and indicating Lloyd with his finger. 

"What, Lloyd?" gasped Sir James, aghast. "No--not Lloyd--nonsense!"

"He doesn't seem to think it nonsense himself, does he?" Hewitt placidlyobserved. Lloyd had sank on a chair, and, gray of face, was staringblindly at the man he had run against at the office door that morning. Hislips moved in spasms, but there was no sound. The wilted flower fell fromhis button-hole to the floor, but he did not move. 

"This is his accomplice, " Hewitt went on, placing the parrot and cage onthe hall table, "though I doubt whether there will be any use in charging_him_. Eh, Polly?"

The parrot put his head aside and chuckled. "Hullo, Polly!" it quietlygurgled. "Come along!"

Sir James Norris was hopelessly bewildered. "Lloyd--Lloyd, " he said, underhis breath. "Lloyd--and that!"

"This was his little messenger, his useful Mercury, " Hewitt explained, tapping the cage complacently; "in fact, the actual lifter. Hold him up!"

The last remark referred to the wretched Lloyd, who had fallen forwardwith something between a sob and a loud sigh. The policemen took him bythe arms and propped him in his chair. 

 * * * * *

"System?" said Hewitt, with a shrug of the shoulders, an hour or two afterin Sir James' study. "I can't say I have a system. I call it nothing butcommon-sense and a sharp pair of eyes. Nobody using these could helptaking the right road in this case. I began at the match, just as theScotland Yard man did, but I had the advantage of taking a line throughthree cases. To begin with, it was plain that that match, being left therein daylight, in Mrs. Cazenove's room, could not have been used to lightthe table-top, in the full glare of the window; therefore it had been usedfor some other purpose--_what_ purpose I could not, at the moment, guess. Habitual thieves, you know, often have curious superstitions, and somewill never take anything without leaving something behind--a pebble or apiece of coal, or something like that--in the premises they have beenrobbing. It seemed at first extremely likely that this was a case of thatkind. The match had clearly been _brought in_--because, when I asked formatches, there were none in the stand, not even an empty box, and the roomhad not been disturbed. Also the match probably had not been struck there, nothing having been heard, although, of course, a mistake in this matterwas just possible. This match, then, it was fair to assume, had been litsomewhere else and blown out immediately--I remarked at the time that itwas very little burned. Plainly it could not have been treated thus fornothing, and the only possible object would have been to prevent itigniting accidentally. Following on this, it became obvious that the matchwas used, for whatever purpose, not _as_ a match, but merely as aconvenient splinter of wood. 

"So far so good. But on examining the match very closely I observed, asyou can see for yourself, certain rather sharp indentations in the wood. They are very small, you see, and scarcely visible, except upon narrowinspection; but there they are, and their positions are regular. See, there are two on each side, each opposite the corresponding mark of theother pair. The match, in fact, would seem to have been gripped in somefairly sharp instrument, holding it at two points above and two below--aninstrument, as it may at once strike you, not unlike the beak of a bird. 

"Now here was an idea. What living creature but a bird could possibly haveentered Mrs. Heath's window without a ladder--supposing no ladder to havebeen used--or could have got into Mrs. Armitage's window without liftingthe sash higher than the eight or ten inches it was already open? Plainly, nothing. Further, it is significant that only _one_ article was stolen ata time, although others were about. A human being could have carried anyreasonable number, but a bird could only take one at a time. But whyshould a bird carry a match in its beak? Certainly it must have beentrained to do that for a purpose, and a little consideration made thatpurpose pretty clear. A noisy, chattering bird would probably betrayitself at once. Therefore it must be trained to keep quiet both whilegoing for and coming away with its plunder. What readier or more probablyeffectual way than, while teaching it to carry without dropping, to teachit also to keep quiet while carrying? The one thing would practicallycover the other. 

"I thought at once, of course, of a jackdaw or a magpie--these birds'thievish reputations made the guess natural. But the marks on the matchwere much too wide apart to have been made by the beak of either. Iconjectured, therefore, that it must be a raven. So that, when we arrivednear the coach-house, I seized the opportunity of a little chat with yourgroom on the subject of dogs and pets in general, and ascertained thatthere was no tame raven in the place. I also, incidentally, by getting alight from the coach-house box of matches, ascertained that the matchfound was of the sort generally used about the establishment--the large, thick, red-topped English match. But I further found that Mr. Lloyd had aparrot which was a most intelligent pet, and had been trained intocomparative quietness--for a parrot. Also, I learned that more than oncethe groom had met Mr. Lloyd carrying his parrot under his coat, it having, as its owner explained, learned the trick of opening its cage-door andescaping. 

"I said nothing, of course, to you of all this, because I had as yetnothing but a train of argument and no results. I got to Lloyd's room assoon as possible. My chief object in going there was achieved when Iplayed with the parrot, and induced it to bite a quill toothpick. 

"When you left me in the smoking-room, I compared the quill and the matchvery carefully, and found that the marks corresponded exactly. After thisI felt very little doubt indeed. The fact of Lloyd having met the ladieswalking before dark on the day of the first robbery proved nothing, because, since it was clear that the match had _not_ been used to procurea light, the robbery might as easily have taken place in daylight asnot--must have so taken place, in fact, if my conjectures were right. Thatthey were right I felt no doubt. There could be no other explanation. 

"When Mrs. Heath left her window open and her door shut, anybody climbingupon the open sash of Lloyd's high window could have put the bird upon thesill above. The match placed in the bird's beak for the purpose I haveindicated, and struck first, in case by accident it should ignite byrubbing against something and startle the bird--this match would, ofcourse, be dropped just where the object to be removed was taken up; asyou know, in every case the match was found almost upon the spot where themissing article had been left--scarcely a likely triple coincidence hadthe match been used by a human thief. This would have been done as soonafter the ladies had left as possible, and there would then have beenplenty of time for Lloyd to hurry out and meet them beforedark--especially plenty of time to meet them _coming back_, as they musthave been, since they were carrying their ferns. The match was an articlewell chosen for its purpose, as being a not altogether unlikely thing tofind on a dressing-table, and, if noticed, likely to lead to the wrongconclusions adopted by the official detective. 

"In Mrs. Armitage's case the taking of an inferior brooch and the leavingof a more valuable ring pointed clearly either to the operator being afool or unable to distinguish values, and certainly, from otherindications, the thief seemed no fool. The door was locked, and thegas-fitter, so to speak, on guard, and the window was only eight or teninches open and propped with a brush. A human thief entering the windowwould have disturbed this arrangement, and would scarcely risk discoveryby attempting to replace it, especially a thief in so great a hurry as tosnatch the brooch up without unfastening the pin. The bird could passthrough the opening as it was, and _would have_ to tear the pin-cushion topull the brooch off, probably holding the cushion down with its claw thewhile. 

"Now in yesterday's case we had an alteration of conditions. The windowwas shut and fastened, but the door was open--but only left for a fewminutes, during which time no sound was heard either of coming or going. Was it not possible, then, that the thief was _already_ in the room, inhiding, while Mrs. Cazenove was there, and seized its first opportunity onher temporary absence? The room is full of draperies, hangings, and whatnot, allowing of plenty of concealment for a bird, and a bird could leavethe place noiselessly and quickly. That the whole scheme was strangemattered not at all. Robberies presenting such unaccountable features musthave been effected by strange means of one sort or another. There was noimprobability. Consider how many hundreds of examples of infinitely higherdegrees of bird-training are exhibited in the London streets every weekfor coppers. 

"So that, on the whole, I felt pretty sure of my ground. But before takingany definite steps I resolved to see if Polly could not be persuaded toexhibit his accomplishments to an indulgent stranger. For that purpose Icontrived to send Lloyd away again and have a quiet hour alone with hisbird. A piece of sugar, as everybody knows, is a good parrot bribe; but awalnut, split in half, is a better--especially if the bird be used to it;so I got you to furnish me with both. Polly was shy at first, but Igenerally get along very well with pets, and a little perseverance soonled to a complete private performance for my benefit. Polly would take thematch, mute as wax, jump on the table, pick up the brightest thing hecould see, in a great hurry, leave the match behind, and scuttle awayround the room; but at first wouldn't give up the plunder to _me_. It wasenough. I also took the liberty, as you know, of a general look round, anddiscovered that little collection of Brummagem rings and trinkets that youhave just seen--used in Polly's education, no doubt. When we sent Lloydaway, it struck me that he might as well be usefully employed as not, so Igot him to fetch the police, deluding him a little, I fear, by talkingabout the servants and a female searcher. There will be no trouble aboutevidence; he'll confess. Of that I'm sure. I know the sort of man. But Idoubt if you'll get Mrs. Cazenove's brooch back. You see, he has been toLondon to-day, and by this time the swag is probably broken up. "

Sir James listened to Hewitt's explanation with many expressions of assentand some of surprise. When it was over, he smoked a few whiffs and thensaid: "But Mrs. Armitage's brooch was pawned, and by a woman. "

"Exactly. I expect our friend Lloyd was rather disgusted at his smallluck--probably gave the brooch to some female connection in London, andshe realized on it. Such persons don't always trouble to give a correctaddress. "

The two smoked in silence for a few minutes, and then Hewitt continued: "Idon't expect our friend has had an easy job altogether with that bird. Hissuccesses at most have only been three, and I suspect he had many failuresand not a few anxious moments that we know nothing of. I should judge asmuch merely from what the groom told me of frequently meeting Lloyd withhis parrot. But the plan was not a bad one--not at all. Even if the birdhad been caught in the act, it would only have been 'That mischievousparrot!' you see. And his master would only have been looking for him. "

II. 

THE LOSS OF SAMMY CROCKETT. 

It was, of course, always a part of Martin Hewitt's business to bethoroughly at home among any and every class of people, and to be able tointerest himself intelligently, or to appear to do so, in their variouspursuits. In one of the most important cases ever placed in his hands hecould have gone but a short way toward success had he not displayed someknowledge of the more sordid aspects of professional sport, and a greatinterest in the undertakings of a certain dealer therein. 

The great case itself had nothing to do with sport, and, indeed, from anarrative point of view, was somewhat uninteresting, but the man who aloneheld the one piece of information wanted was a keeper, backer, or "gaffer"of professional pedestrians, and it was through the medium of hispecuniary interest in such matters that Hewitt was enabled to strike abargain with him. 

The man was a publican on the outskirts of Padfield, a northern town, pretty famous for its sporting tastes, and to Padfield, therefore, Hewittbetook himself, and, arrayed in a way to indicate some inclination of hisown toward sport, he began to frequent the bar of the Hare and Hounds. Kentish, the landlord, was a stout, bull-necked man, of no greatcommunicativeness at first; but after a little acquaintance he opened outwonderfully, became quite a jolly (and rather intelligent) companion, andcame out with innumerable anecdotes of his sporting adventures. He couldput a very decent dinner on the table, too, at the Hare and Hounds, andHewitt's frequent invitation to him to join therein and divide a bottle ofthe best in the cellar soon put the two on the very best of terms. Goodterms with Mr. Kentish was Hewitt's great desire, for the information hewanted was of a sort that could never be extracted by casual questioning, but must be a matter of open communication by the publican, extracted inwhat way it might be. 

"Look here, " said Kentish one day, "I'll put you on to a good thing, myboy--a real good thing. Of course you know all about the Padfield 135Yards Handicap being run off now?"

"Well, I haven't looked into it much, " Hewitt replied. "Ran the firstround of heats last Saturday and Monday, didn't they?"

"They did. Well"--Kentish spoke in a stage whisper as he leaned over andrapped the table--"I've got the final winner in this house. " He nodded hishead, took a puff at his cigar, and added, in his ordinary voice. "Don'tsay nothing. "

"No, of course not. Got something on, of course?"

"Rather! What do you think? Got any price I liked. Been saving him up forthis. Why, he's got twenty-one yards, and he can do even time all the way!Fact! Why, he could win runnin' back'ards. He won his heat on Mondaylike--like--like that!" The gaffer snapped his fingers, in default of abetter illustration, and went on. "He might ha' took it a little easier, _I_ think; it's shortened his price, of course, him jumpin' in by twoyards. But you can get decent odds now, if you go about it right. You takemy tip--back him for his heat next Saturday, in the second round, and forthe final. You'll get a good price for the final, if you pop it down atonce. But don't go makin' a song of it, will you, now? I'm givin' you atip I wouldn't give anybody else. "

"Thanks, very much; it's awfully good of you. I'll do what you advise. Butisn't there a dark horse anywhere else?"

"Not dark to me, my boy, not dark to me. I know every man runnin' like abook. Old Taylor--him over at the Cop--he's got a very good lad ateighteen yards, a very good lad indeed; and he's a tryer this time, Iknow. But, bless you, my lad could give him ten, instead o' taking three, and beat him then! When I'm runnin' a real tryer, I'm generally runnin'something very near a winner, you bet; and this time, mind _this_ time, I'm runnin' the certainest winner I _ever_ run--and I don't often make amistake. You back him. "

"I shall, if you're as sure as that. But who is he?"

"Oh, Crockett's his name--Sammy Crockett. He's quite a new lad. I've gotyoung Steggles looking after him--sticks to him like wax. Takes his littlebreathers in my bit o' ground at the back here. I've got a cinder-sprintpath there, over behind the trees. I don't let him out o' sight much, Ican tell you. He's a straight lad, and he knows it'll be worth his whileto stick to me; but there's some 'ud poison him, if they thought he'dspoil their books. "

Soon afterward the two strolled toward the taproom. "I expect Sammy'll bethere, " the landlord said, "with Steggles. I don't hide him toomuch--they'd think I'd got something extra on if I did. "

In the tap-room sat a lean, wire-drawn-looking youth, with slopingshoulders and a thin face, and by his side was a rather short, thick-setman, who had an odd air, no matter what he did, of proprietorship andsurveillance of the lean youth. Several other men sat about, and there wasloud laughter, under which the lean youth looked sheepishly angry. 

"'Tarn't no good, Sammy, lad, " some one was saying, "you a-makin' afterNancy Webb--she'll ha' nowt to do with 'ee. "

"Don' like 'em so thread-papery, " added another. "No, Sammy, you aren'tthe lad for she. I see her----"

"What about Nancy Webb?" asked Kentish, pushing open the door. "Sammy'sall right, any way. You keep fit, my lad, an' go on improving, and someday you'll have as good a house as me. Never mind the lasses. Had hisglass o' beer, has he?" This to Raggy Steggles, who, answering in theaffirmative, viewed his charge as though he were a post, and the beer arecent coat of paint. 

"Has two glasses of mild a day, " the landlord said to Hewitt. "Never putson flesh, so he can stand it. Come out now. " He nodded to Steggles, whorose and marched Sammy Crockett away for exercise. 

 * * * * *

On the following afternoon (it was Thursday), as Hewitt and Kentishchatted in the landlord's own snuggery, Steggles burst into the room in agreat state of agitation and spluttered out: "He--he's bolted; gone away!"

"What?"

"Sammy--gone! Hooked it! _I_ can't find him. "

The landlord stared blankly at the trainer, who stood with a sweaterdangling from his hand and stared blankly back. "What d'ye mean?" Kentishsaid, at last. "Don't be a fool! He's in the place somewhere. Find him!"

But this Steggles defied anybody to do. He had looked already. He had leftCrockett at the cinder-path behind the trees in his running-gear, with theaddition of the long overcoat and cap he used in going between the pathand the house to guard against chill. "I was goin' to give him a bust ortwo with the pistol, " the trainer explained, "but, when we got overt'other side, 'Raggy, ' ses he, 'it's blawin' a bit chilly. I think I'llha' a sweater. There's one on my box, ain't there?' So in I coomes for thesweater, and it weren't on his box, and, when I found it and got back--heweren't there. They'd seen nowt o' him in t' house, and he weren'tnowhere. "

Hewitt and the landlord, now thoroughly startled, searched everywhere, butto no purpose. "What should he go off the place for?" asked Kentish, in asweat of apprehension. "'Tain't chilly a bit--it's warm. He didn't want nosweater; never wore one before. It was a piece of kid to be able to clearout. Nice thing, this is. I stand to win two years' takings over him. Here--you'll have to find him. "

"Ah, but how?" exclaimed the disconcerted trainer, dancing aboutdistractedly. "I've got all I could scrape on him myself. Where can Ilook?"

Here was Hewitt's opportunity. He took Kentish aside and whispered. Whathe said startled the landlord considerably. "Yes, I'll tell you all aboutthat, " he said, "if that's all you want. It's no good or harm to mewhether I tell or no. But can you find him?"

"That I can't promise, of course. But you know who I am now, and what I'mhere for. If you like to give me the information I want, I'll go into thecase for you, and, of course, I shan't charge any fee. I may have luck, you know, but I can't promise, of course. "

The landlord looked in Hewitt's face for a moment. Then he said: "Done!It's a deal. "

"Very good, " Hewitt replied; "get together the one or two papers you have, and we'll go into my business in the evening. As to Crockett, don't say aword to anybody. I'm afraid it must get out, since they all know about itin the house, but there's no use in making any unnecessary noise. Don'tmake hedging bets or do anything that will attract notice. Now we'll goover to the back and look at this cinder-path of yours. "

Here Steggles, who was still standing near, was struck with an idea. "Howabout old Taylor, at the Cop, guv'nor, eh?" he said, meaningly. "His lad'sgood enough to win with Sammy out, and Taylor is backing him plenty. Thinkhe knows any thing o' this?"

"That's likely, " Hewitt observed, before Kentish could reply. "Yes. Lookhere--suppose Steggles goes and keeps his eye on the Cop for an hour ortwo, in case there's anything to be heard of? Don't show yourself, ofcourse. "

Kentish agreed, and the trainer went. When Hewitt and Kentish arrived atthe path behind the trees, Hewitt at once began examining the ground. Oneor two rather large holes in the cinders were made, as the publicanexplained, by Crockett, in practicing getting off his mark. Behind thesewere several fresh tracks of spiked shoes. The tracks led up to within acouple of yards of the high fence bounding the ground, and there stoppedabruptly and entirely. In the fence, a little to the right of where thetracks stopped, there was a stout door. This Hewitt tried, and found ajar. 

"That's always kept bolted, " Kentish said. "He's gone out that way--hecouldn't have gone any other without comin' through the house. "

"But he isn't in the habit of making a step three yards long, is he?"Hewitt asked, pointing at the last footmark and then at the door, whichwas quite that distance away from it. "Besides, " he added, opening thedoor, "there's no footprint here nor outside. "

The door opened on a lane, with another fence and a thick plantation oftrees at the other side. Kentish looked at the footmarks, then at thedoor, then down the lane, and finally back toward the house. "That's alicker!" he said. 

"This is a quiet sort of lane, " was Hewitt's next remark. "No houses insight. Where does it lead?"

"That way it goes to the Old Kilns--disused. This way down to a turningoff the Padfield and Catton road. "

Hewitt returned to the cinder-path again, and once more examined thefootmarks. He traced them back over the grass toward the house. "Certainly, " he said, "he hasn't gone back to the house. Here is thedouble line of tracks, side by side, from the house--Steggles' ordinaryboots with iron tips, and Crockett's running pumps; thus they came out. Here is Steggles' track in the opposite direction alone, made when he wentback for the sweater. Crockett remained; you see various prints in thoseloose cinders at the end of the path where he moved this way and that, andthen two or three paces toward the fence--not directly toward the door, you notice--and there they stop dead, and there are no more, either backor forward. Now, if he had wings, I should be tempted to the opinion thathe flew straight away in the air from that spot--unless the earthswallowed him and closed again without leaving a wrinkle on its face. "

Kentish stared gloomily at the tracks and said nothing. 

"However, " Hewitt resumed, "I think I'll take a little walk now and thinkover it. You go into the house and show yourself at the bar. If anybodywants to know how Crockett is, he's pretty well, thank you. By the by, canI get to the Cop--this place of Taylor's--by this back lane?"

"Yes, down to the end leading to the Catton road, turn to the left andthen first on the right. Any one'll show you the Cop, " and Kentish shutthe door behind the detective, who straightway walked--toward the OldKilns. 

In little more than an hour he was back. It was now becoming dusk, and thelandlord looked out papers from a box near the side window of hissnuggery, for the sake of the extra light. "I've got these papers togetherfor you, " he said, as Hewitt entered. "Any news?"

"Nothing very great. Here's a bit of handwriting I want you to recognize, if you can. Get a light. "

Kentish lit a lamp, and Hewitt laid upon the table half a dozen smallpieces of torn paper, evidently fragments of a letter which had been tornup, here reproduced in fac-simile:

[Illustration: six scraps of paper: mmy, throw them ou, right away, lefthi, hate his, lane wr]

The landlord turned the scraps over, regarding them dubiously. "Thesearen't much to recognize, anyhow. _I_ don't know the writing. Where didyou find 'em?"

"They were lying in the lane at the back, a little way down. Plainly theyare pieces of a note addressed to some one called Sammy or something verylike it. See the first piece, with its 'mmy'? That is clearly from thebeginning of the note, because there is no line between it and the smooth, straight edge of the paper above; also, nothing follows on the same line. Some one writes to Crockett--presuming it to be a letter addressed to him, as I do for other reasons--as Sammy. It is a pity that there is no more ofthe letter to be found than these pieces. I expect the person who tore itup put the rest in his pocket and dropped these by accident. "

Kentish, who had been picking up and examining each piece in turn, nowdolorously broke out:

"Oh, it's plain he's sold us--bolted and done us; me as took him out o'the gutter, too. Look here--'throw them over'; that's plain enough--can'tmean anything else. Means throw _me_ over, and my friends--me, after whatI've done for him! Then 'right away'--go right away, I s'pose, as he hasdone. Then"--he was fiddling with the scraps and finally fitted twotogether--"why, look here, this one with 'lane' on it fits over the oneabout throwing over, and it says 'poor f' where its torn; that means 'poorfool, ' I s'pose--_me_, or 'fathead, ' or something like that. That's nice. Why, I'd twist his neck if I could get hold of him; and I will!"

Hewitt smiled. "Perhaps it's not quite so uncomplimentary, after all, " hesaid. "If you can't recognize the writing, never mind. But, if he's goneaway to sell you, it isn't much use finding him, is it? He won't win if hedoesn't want to. "

"Why, he wouldn't dare to rope under my very eyes. I'd--I'd----"

"Well, well; perhaps we'll get him to run, after all, and as well as hecan. One thing is certain--he left this place of his own will. Further, Ithink he is in Padfield now; he went toward the town, I believe. And Idon't think he means to sell you. "

"Well, he shouldn't. I've made it worth his while to stick to me. I've puta fifty on for him out of my own pocket, and told him so; and, if he won, that would bring him a lump more than he'd probably get by going crooked, besides the prize money and anything I might give him over. But it seemsto me he's putting me in the cart altogether. "

"That we shall see. Meantime, don't mention anything I've told you to anyone--not even to Steggles. He can't help us, and he might blurt things outinadvertently. Don't say anything about these pieces of paper, which Ishall keep myself. By-the-by, Steggles is indoors, isn't he? Very well, keep him in. Don't let him be seen hunting about this evening. I'll stayhere to-night and we'll proceed with Crockett's business in the morning. And now we'll settle _my_ business, please. "

 * * * * *

In the morning Hewitt took his breakfast in the snuggery, carefullylistening to any conversation that might take place at the bar. Soon afternine o'clock a fast dog-cart stopped outside, and a red-faced, loud-voicedman swaggered in, greeting Kentish with boisterous cordiality. He had adrink with the landlord, and said: "How's things? Fancy any of 'em for thesprint handicap? Got a lad o' your own in, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes, " Kentish replied. "Crockett. Only a young un not got to hisproper mark yet, I reckon. I think old Taylor's got No. 1 this time. "

"Capital lad, " the other replied, with a confidential nod. "Shouldn'twonder at all. Want to do anything yourself over it?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm not on at present. Might have a little flutteron the grounds just for fun; nothing else. "

There were a few more casual remarks, and then the red-faced man droveaway. 

"Who was that?" asked Hewitt, who had watched the visitor through thesnuggery window. 

"That's Danby--bookmaker. Cute chap. He's been told Crockett's missing, I'll bet anything, and come here to pump me. No good, though. As a matterof fact, I've worked Sammy Crockett into his books for about half I'm infor altogether--through third parties, of course. "

Hewitt reached for his hat. "I'm going out for half an hour now, " he said. "If Steggles wants to go out before I come back, don't let him. Let him goand smooth over all those tracks on the cinder-path, very carefully. And, by the by, could you manage to have your son about the place to-day, incase I happen to want a little help out of doors?"

"Certainly; I'll get him to stay in. But what do you want the cinderssmoothed for?"

Hewitt smiled, and patted his host's shoulder. "I'll explain all my trickswhen the job's done, " he said, and went out. 

 * * * * *

On the lane from Padfield to Sedby village stood the Plough beer-house, wherein J. Webb was licensed to sell by retail beer to be consumed on thepremises or off, as the thirsty list. Nancy Webb, with a very fine color, a very curly fringe, and a wide smiling mouth revealing a fine set ofteeth, came to the bar at the summons of a stoutish old gentleman inspectacles who walked with a stick. 

The stoutish old gentleman had a glass of bitter beer, and then said inthe peculiarly quiet voice of a very deaf man: "Can you tell me, if youplease, the way into the main Catton road?"

"Down the lane, turn to the right at the cross-roads, then first to theleft. "

The old gentleman waited with his hand to his ear for some few secondsafter she had finished speaking, and then resumed in his whispering voice:"I'm afraid I'm very deaf this morning. " He fumbled in his pocket andproduced a note-book and pencil. "May I trouble you to write it down? I'mso very deaf at times that I--Thank you. "

The girl wrote the direction, and the old gentleman bade her good-morningand left. All down the lane he walked slowly with his stick. At thecross-roads he turned, put the stick under his arm, thrust his spectaclesinto his pocket, and strode away in the ordinary guise of Martin Hewitt. He pulled out his note-book, examined Miss Webb's direction verycarefully, and then went off another way altogether, toward the Hare andHounds. 

Kentish lounged moodily in his bar. "Well, my boy, " said Hewitt, "hasSteggles wiped out the tracks?"

"Not yet; I haven't told him. But he's somewhere about; I'll tell himnow. "

"No, don't. I don't think we'll have that done, after all. I expect he'llwant to go out soon--at any rate, some time during the day. Let him gowhenever he likes. I'll sit upstairs a bit in the club-room. "

"Very well. But how do you know Steggles will be going out?"

"Well, he's pretty restless after his lost _protégé_, isn't he? I don'tsuppose he'll be able to remain idle long. "

"And about Crockett. Do you give him up?"

"Oh, no! Don't you be impatient. I can't say I'm quite confident yet oflaying hold of him--the time is so short, you see--but I think I shall atleast have news for you by the evening. "

Hewitt sat in the club-room until the afternoon, taking his lunch there. At length he saw, through the front window, Raggy Steggles walking downthe road. In an instant Hewitt was down-stairs and at the door. The roadbent eighty yards away, and as soon as Steggles passed the bend thedetective hurried after him. 

All the way to Padfield town and more than half through it Hewitt doggedthe trainer. In the end Steggles stopped at a corner and gave a note to asmall boy who was playing near. The boy ran with the note to a bright, well-kept house at the opposite corner. Martin Hewitt was interested toobserve the legend, "H. Danby, Contractor, " on a board over a gate in theside wall of the garden behind this house. In five minutes a door in theside gate opened, and the head and shoulders of the red-faced man emerged. Steggles immediately hurried across and disappeared through the gate. 

This was both interesting and instructive. Hewitt took up a position inthe side street and waited. In ten minutes the trainer reappeared andhurried off the way he had come, along the street Hewitt had consideratelyleft clear for him. Then Hewitt strolled toward the smart house and took agood look at it. At one corner of the small piece of forecourt garden, near the railings, a small, baize-covered, glass-fronted notice-boardstood on two posts. On its top edge appeared the words, "H. Danby. Housesto be Sold or Let. " But the only notice pinned to the green baize withinwas an old and dusty one, inviting tenants for three shops, which weresuitable for any business, and which would be fitted to suit tenants. Apply within. 

Hewitt pushed open the front gate and rang the door-bell. "There are someshops to let, I see, " he said, when a maid appeared. "I should like to seethem, if you will let me have the key. "

"Master's out, sir. You can't see the shops till Monday. "

"Dear me, that's unfortunate, I'm afraid I can't wait till Monday. Didn'tMr. Danby leave any instructions, in case anybody should inquire?"

"Yes, sir--as I've told you. He said anybody who called about 'em mustcome again on Monday. "

"Oh, very well, then; I suppose I must try. One of the shops is in HighStreet, isn't it?"

"No, sir; they're all in the new part--Granville Road. "

"Ah, I'm afraid that will scarcely do. But I'll see. Good-day. "

Martin Hewitt walked away a couple of streets' lengths before he inquiredthe way to Granville Road. When at last he found that thoroughfare, in anew and muddy suburb, crowded with brick-heaps and half-finished streets, he took a slow walk along its entire length. It was a melancholy exampleof baffled enterprise. A row of a dozen or more shops had been builtbefore any population had arrived to demand goods. Would-be tradesmen hadtaken many of these shops, and failure and disappointment stared from thewindows. Some were half covered by shutters, because the scanty stockscarce sufficed to fill the remaining half. Others were shut almostaltogether, the inmates only keeping open the door for their ownconvenience, and, perhaps, keeping down a shutter for the sake of a littlelight. Others, again, had not yet fallen so low, but struggled bravelystill to maintain a show of business and prosperity, with very littlesuccess. Opposite the shops there still remained a dusty, ill-treatedhedge and a forlorn-looking field, which an old board offered on buildingleases. Altogether a most depressing spot. 

There was little difficulty in identifying the three shops offered forletting by Mr. H. Danby. They were all together near the middle of therow, and were the only ones that appeared not yet to have been occupied. Adusty "To Let" bill hung in each window, with written directions toinquire of Mr. H. Danby or at No. 7. Now No. 7 was a melancholy baker'sshop, with a stock of three loaves and a plate of stale buns. Thedisappointed baker assured Hewitt that he usually kept the keys of theshops, but that the landlord, Mr. Danby, had taken them away the daybefore to see how the ceilings were standing, and had not returned them. "But if you was thinking of taking a shop here, " the poor baker added, with some hesitation, "I--I--if you'll excuse my advising you--I shouldn'trecommend it. I've had a sickener of it myself. "

Hewitt thanked the baker for his advice, wished him better luck in future, and left. To the Hare and Hounds his pace was brisk. "Come, " he said, ashe met Kentish's inquiring glance, "this has been a very good day, on thewhole. I know where our man is now, and I think we can get him, by alittle management. "

"Where is he?"

"Oh, down in Padfield. As a matter of fact, he's being kept there againsthis will, we shall find. I see that your friend Mr. Danby is a builder aswell as a bookmaker. "

"Not a regular builder. He speculates in a street of new houses now andagain, that's all. But is he in it?"

"He's as deep in it as anybody, I think. Now, don't fly into a passion. There are a few others in it as well, but you'll do harm if you don't keepquiet. "

"But go and get the police; come and fetch him, if you know where they'rekeeping him. Why----"

"So we will, if we can't do it without them. But it's quite possible wecan, and without all the disturbance and, perhaps, delay that calling inthe police would involve. Consider, now, in reference to your ownarrangements. Wouldn't it pay you better to get him back quietly, withouta soul knowing--perhaps not even Danby knowing--till the heat is runto-morrow?"

"Well, yes, it would, of course. "

"Very good, then, so be it. Remember what I have told you about keepingyour mouth shut; say nothing to Steggles or anybody. Is there a cab orbrougham your son and I can have for the evening?"

"There's an old hiring landau in the stables you can shut up into a cab, if that'll do. "

"Excellent. We'll run down to the town in it as soon as it's ready. But, first, a word about Crockett. What sort of a lad is he? Likely to givethem trouble, show fight, and make a disturbance?"

"No, I should say not. He's no plucked un, certainly; all his manhood's inhis legs, I believe. You see, he ain't a big sort o' chap at best, andhe'd be pretty easy put upon--at least, I guess so. "

"Very good, so much the better, for then he won't have been damaged, andthey will probably only have one man to guard him. Now the carriage, please. "

Young Kentish was a six-foot sergeant of grenadiers home on furlough, andluxuriating in plain clothes. He and Hewitt walked a little way toward thetown, allowing the landau to catch them up. They traveled in it to withina hundred yards of the empty shops and then alighted, bidding the driverwait. 

"I shall show you three empty shops, " Hewitt said, as he and young Kentishwalked down Granville Road. "I am pretty sure that Sammy Crockett is inone of them, and I am pretty sure that that is the middle one. Take a lookas we go past. "

When the shops had been slowly passed, Hewitt resumed: "Now, did you seeanything about those shops that told a tale of any sort?"

"No, " Sergeant Kentish replied. "I can't say I noticed anything beyond thefact that they were empty--and likely to stay so, I should think. "

"We'll stroll back, and look in at the windows, if nobody's watching us, "Hewitt said. "You see, it's reasonable to suppose they've put him in themiddle one, because that would suit their purpose best. The shops at eachside of the three are occupied, and, if the prisoner struggled, orshouted, or made an uproar, he might be heard if he were in one of theshops next those inhabited. So that the middle shop is the most likely. Now, see there, " he went on, as they stopped before the window of the shopin question, "over at the back there's a staircase not yet partitionedoff. It goes down below and up above. On the stairs and on the floor nearthem there are muddy footmarks. These must have been made to-day, elsethey would not be muddy, but dry and dusty, since there hasn't been ashower for a week till to-day. Move on again. Then you noticed that therewere no other such marks in the shop. Consequently the man with the muddyfeet did not come in by the front door, but by the back; otherwise hewould have made a trail from the door. So we will go round to the backourselves. "

It was now growing dusk. The small pieces of ground behind the shops werebounded by a low fence, containing a door for each house. 

"This door is bolted inside, of course, " Hewitt said, "but there is nodifficulty in climbing. I think we had better wait in the garden tilldark. In the meantime, the jailer, whoever he is, may come out; in whichcase we shall pounce on him as soon as he opens the door. You have thatfew yards of cord in your pocket, I think? And my handkerchief, properlyrolled, will make a very good gag. Now over. "

They climbed the fence and quietly approached the house, placingthemselves in the angle of an outhouse out of sight from the windows. There was no sound, and no light appeared. Just above the ground about afoot of window was visible, with a grating over it, apparently lighting abasement. Suddenly Hewitt touched his companion's arm and pointed towardthe window. A faint rustling sound was perceptible, and, as nearly ascould be discerned in the darkness, some white blind or covering wasplaced over the glass from the inside. Then came the sound of a strikingmatch, and at the side edge of the window there was a faint streak oflight. 

"That's the place, " Hewitt whispered. "Come, we'll make a push for it. Youstand against the wall at one side of the door and I'll stand at theother, and we'll have him as he comes out. Quietly, now, and I'll startlethem. "

He took a stone from among the rubbish littering the garden and flung itcrashing through the window. There was a loud exclamation from within, theblind fell, and somebody rushed to the back door and flung it open. Instantly Kentish let fly a heavy right-hander, and the man went over likea skittle. In a moment Hewitt was upon him and the gag in his mouth. 

"Hold him, " Hewitt whispered, hurriedly. "I'll see if there are others. "

He peered down through the low window. Within Sammy Crockett, his barelegs dangling from beneath his long overcoat, sat on a packing-box, leaning with his head on his hand and his back toward the window. Aguttering candle stood on the mantel-piece, and the newspaper which hadbeen stretched across the window lay in scattered sheets on the floor. Noother person besides Sammy was visible. 

They led their prisoner indoors. Young Kentish recognized him as apublic-house loafer and race-course ruffian, well known in theneighborhood. 

"So it's you, is it, Browdie?" he said. "I've caught you one hard clump, and I've half a mind to make it a score more. But you'll get it prettywarm one way or another before this job's forgotten. "

Sammy Crockett was overjoyed at his rescue. He had not been ill-treated, he explained, but had been thoroughly cowed by Browdie, who had from timeto time threatened him savagely with an iron bar by way of persuading himto quietness and submission. He had been fed, and had taken no worse harmthan a slight stiffness from his adventure, due to his light under-attireof jersey and knee-shorts. 

Sergeant Kentish tied Browdie's elbows firmly together behind, and carriedthe line round the ankles, bracing all up tight. Then he ran a knot fromone wrist to the other over the back of the neck, and left the prisoner, trussed and helpless, on the heap of straw that had been Sammy's bed. 

"You won't be very jolly, I expect, " Kentish said, "for some time. Youcan't shout and you can't walk, and I know you can't untie yourself. You'll get a bit hungry, too, perhaps, but that'll give you an appetite. Idon't suppose you'll be disturbed till some time to-morrow, unless ourfriend Danby turns up in the meantime. But you can come along to jailinstead, if you prefer it. "

They left him where he lay, and took Sammy to the old landau. Sammy walkedin slippers, carrying his spiked shoes, hanging by the lace, in his hand. 

"Ah, " said Hewitt, "I think I know the name of the young lady who gave youthose slippers. "

Crockett looked ashamed and indignant. "Yes, " he said, "they've done menicely between 'em. But I'll pay her--I'll----"

"Hush, hush!" Hewitt said; "you mustn't talk unkindly of a lady, you know. Get into this carriage, and we'll take you home. We'll see if I can tellyou your adventures without making a mistake. First, you had a note fromMiss Webb, telling you that you were mistaken in supposing she hadslighted you, and that, as a matter of fact, she had quite done withsomebody else--left him--of whom you were jealous. Isn't that so?"

"Well, yes, " young Crockett answered, blushing deeply under thecarriage-lamp; "but I don't see how you come to know that. "

"Then she went on to ask you to get rid of Steggles on Thursday afternoonfor a few minutes, and speak to her in the back lane. Now, your runningpumps, with their thin soles, almost like paper, no heels and long spikes, hurt your feet horribly if you walk on hard ground, don't they?"

"Ay, that they do--enough to cripple you. I'd never go on much hard groundwith 'em. "

"They're not like cricket shoes, I see. "

"Not a bit. Cricket shoes you can walk anywhere in!"

"Well, she knew this--I think I know who told her--and she promised tobring you a new pair of slippers, and to throw them over the fence for youto come out in. "

"I s'pose she's been tellin' you all this?" Crockett said, mournfully. "You couldn't ha' seen the letter; I saw her tear it up and put the bitsin her pocket. She asked me for it in the lane, in case Steggles saw it. "

"Well, at any rate, you sent Steggles away, and the slippers did comeover, and you went into the lane. You walked with her as far as the roadat the end, and then you were seized and gagged, and put into a carriage. "

"That was Browdie did that, " said Crockett, "and another chap I don'tknow. But--why, this is Padfield High Street?" He looked through thewindow and regarded the familiar shops with astonishment. 

"Of course it is. Where did you think it was?"

"Why, where was that place you found me in?"

"Granville Road, Padfield. I suppose they told you you were in anothertown?"

"Told me it was Newstead Hatch. They drove for about three or four hours, and kept me down on the floor between the seats so as I couldn't see wherewe was going. "

"Done for two reasons, " said Hewitt. "First, to mystify you, and preventany discovery of the people directing the conspiracy; and second, to beable to put you indoors at night and unobserved. Well, I think I have toldyou all you know yourself now as far as the carriage. 

"But there is the Hare and Hounds just in front. We'll pull up here, andI'll get out and see if the coast is clear. I fancy Mr. Kentish wouldrather you came in unnoticed. "

In a few seconds Hewitt was back, and Crockett was conveyed indoors by aside entrance. Hewitt's instructions to the landlord were few, butemphatic. "Don't tell Steggles about it, " he said; "make an excuse to getrid of him, and send him out of the house. Take Crockett into some otherbedroom, not his own, and let your son look after him. Then come here, andI'll tell you all about it. "

Sammy Crockett was undergoing a heavy grooming with white embrocation atthe hands of Sergeant Kentish when the landlord returned to Hewitt. "DoesDanby know you've got him?" he asked. "How did you do it?"

"Danby doesn't know yet, and with luck he won't know till he sees Crockettrunning to-morrow. The man who has sold you is Steggles. "

"Steggles?"

"Steggles it is. At the very first, when Steggles rushed in to reportSammy Crockett missing, I suspected him. You didn't, I suppose?"

"No. He's always been considered a straight man, and he looked as startledas anybody. "

"Yes, I must say he acted it very well. But there was something suspiciousin his story. What did he say? Crockett had remarked a chilliness, andasked for a sweater, which Steggles went to fetch. Now, just think. Youunderstand these things. Would any trainer who knew his business (asSteggles does) have gone to bring out a sweater for his man to change forhis jersey in the open air, at the very time the man was complaining ofchilliness? Of course not. He would have taken his man indoors again andlet him change there under shelter. Then supposing Steggles had reallybeen surprised at missing Crockett, wouldn't he have looked about, foundthe gate open, and _told_ you it was open when he first came in? He saidnothing of that--we found the gate open for ourselves. So that from thebeginning I had a certain opinion of Steggles. "

"What you say seems pretty plain now, although it didn't strike me at thetime. But, if Steggles was selling us, why couldn't he have drugged thelad? That would have been a deal simpler. "

"Because Steggles is a good trainer, and has a certain reputation to keepup. It would have done him no good to have had a runner drugged whileunder his care; certainly it would have cooked his goose with _you_. Itwas much the safer thing to connive at kidnapping. That put all the activework into other hands, and left him safe, even if the trick failed. Now, you remember that we traced the prints of Crockett's spiked shoes towithin a couple of yards from the fence, and that there they ceasedsuddenly?"

"Yes. You said it looked as though he had flown up into the air; and so itdid. "

"But I was sure that it was by that gate that Crockett had left, and by noother. He couldn't have got through the house without being seen, andthere was no other way--let alone the evidence of the unbolted gate. Therefore, as the footprints ceased where they did, and were not repeatedanywhere in the lane, I knew that he had taken his spiked shoesoff--probably changed them for something else, because a runner anxious asto his chances would never risk walking on bare feet, with a chance ofcutting them. Ordinary, broad, smooth-soled slippers would leave noimpression on the coarse cinders bordering the track, and nothing short ofspiked shoes would leave a mark on the hard path in the lane behind. Thespike-tracks were leading, not directly toward the door, but in thedirection of the fence, when they stopped; somebody had handed, or thrown, the slippers over the fence, and he had changed them on the spot. Theenemy had calculated upon the spikes leaving a track in the lane thatmight lead us in our search, and had arranged accordingly. 

"So far so good. I could see no footprints near the gate in the lane. Youwill remember that I sent Steggles off to watch at the Cop before I wentout to the back--merely, of course, to get him out of the way. I went outinto the lane, leaving you behind, and walked its whole length, firsttoward the Old Kilns and then back toward the road. I found nothing tohelp me except these small pieces of paper--which are here in mypocket-book, by the by. Of course this 'mmy' might have meant 'Jimmy' or'Tommy' as possibly as 'Sammy, ' but they were not to be rejected on thataccount. Certainly Crockett had been decoyed out of your ground, not takenby force, or there would have been marks of a scuffle in the cinders. Andas his request for a sweater was probably an excuse--because it was not atall a cold afternoon--he must have previously designed going out. Inference, a letter received; and here were pieces of a letter. Now, inthe light of what I have said, look at these pieces. First, there is the'mmy'--that I have dealt with. Then see this 'throw them ov'--clearly apart of 'throw them over'; exactly what had probably been done with theslippers. Then the 'poor f, ' coming just on the line before, and seen, byjoining up with this other piece, might easily be a reference to 'poorfeet. ' These coincidences, one on the other, went far to establish theidentity of the letter, and to confirm my previous impressions. But thenthere is something else. Two other pieces evidently mean 'left him, ' and'right away, ' perhaps; but there is another, containing almost all of thewords 'hate his, ' with the word 'hate' underlined. Now, who writes 'hate'with the emphasis of underscoring--who but a woman? The writing is largeand not very regular; it might easily be that of a half-educated woman. Here was something more--Sammy had been enticed away by a woman. 

"Now, I remembered that, when we went into the tap-room on Wednesday, someof his companions were chaffing Crockett about a certain Nancy Webb, andthe chaff went home, as was plain to see. The woman, then, who could mosteasily entice Sammy Crockett away was Nancy Webb. I resolved to find whoNancy Webb was and learn more of her. 

"Meantime, I took a look at the road at the end of the lane. It was damperthan the lane, being lower, and overhung by trees. There were manywheel-tracks, but only one set that turned in the road and went back theway it came, toward the town; and they were narrow wheels--carriagewheels. Crockett tells me now that they drove him about for a long timebefore shutting him up; probably the inconvenience of taking him straightto the hiding-place didn't strike them when they first drove off. 

"A few inquiries soon set me in the direction of the Plough and Miss NancyWebb. I had the curiosity to look around the place as I approached, andthere, in the garden behind the house, were Steggles and the young lady inearnest confabulation!

"Every conjecture became a certainty. Steggles was the lover of whomCrockett was jealous, and he had employed the girl to bring Sammy out. Iwatched Steggles home, and gave you a hint to keep him there. 

"But the thing that remained was to find Steggles' employer in thisbusiness. I was glad to be in when Danby called. He came, of course, tohear if you would blurt out anything, and to learn, if possible, whatsteps you were taking. He failed. By way of making assurance doubly sure Itook a short walk this morning in the character of a deaf gentleman, andgot Miss Webb to write me a direction that comprised three of the words onthese scraps of paper--'left, ' 'right, ' and 'lane'; see, they correspond, the peculiar 'f's, ' 't's, ' and all. 

"Now, I felt perfectly sure that Steggles would go for his pay to-day. Inthe first place, I knew that people mixed up with shady transactions inprofessional pedestrianism are not apt to trust one another far--they knowbetter. Therefore Steggles wouldn't have had his bribe first. But he wouldtake care to get it before the Saturday heats were run, because once theywere over the thing was done, and the principal conspirator might haverefused to pay up, and Steggles couldn't have helped himself. Again Ihinted he should not go out till I could follow him, and this afternoon, when he went, follow him I did. I saw him go into Danby's house by theside way and come away again. Danby it was, then, who had arranged thebusiness; and nobody was more likely, considering his large pecuniarystake against Crockett's winning this race. 

"But now how to find Crockett? I made up my mind he wouldn't be in Danby'sown house. That would be a deal too risky, with servants about and so on. I saw that Danby was a builder, and had three shops to let--it was on apaper before his house. What more likely prison than an empty house? Iknocked at Danby's door and asked for the keys of those shops. I couldn'thave them. The servant told me Danby was out (a manifest lie, for I hadjust seen him), and that nobody could see the shops till Monday. But I gotout of her the address of the shops, and that was all I wanted at thetime. 

"Now, why was nobody to see those shops till Monday? The interval wassuspicious--just enough to enable Crockett to be sent away again and castloose after the Saturday racing, supposing him to be kept in one of theempty buildings. I went off at once and looked at the shops, forming myconclusions as to which would be the most likely for Danby's purpose. HereI had another confirmation of my ideas. A poor, half-bankrupt baker in oneof the shops had, by the bills, the custody of a set of keys; but he, too, told me I couldn't have them; Danby had taken them away--and on Thursday, the very day--with some trivial excuse, and hadn't brought them back. Thatwas all I wanted or could expect in the way of guidance. The whole thingwas plain. The rest you know all about. "

"Well, you're certainly as smart as they give you credit for, I must say. But suppose Danby had taken down his 'To Let' notice, what would you havedone, then?"

"We had our course, even then. We should have gone to Danby, astounded himby telling him all about his little games, terrorized him with threats ofthe law, and made him throw up his hand and send Crockett back. But, as itis, you see, he doesn't know at this moment--probably won't know tillto-morrow afternoon--that the lad is safe and sound here. You willprobably use the interval to make him pay for losing the game--by some ofthe ingenious financial devices you are no doubt familiar with. "

"Ay, that I will. He'll give any price against Crockett now, so long asthe bet don't come direct from me. "

"But about Crockett, now, " Hewitt went on. "Won't this confinement belikely to have damaged his speed for a day or two?"

"Ah, perhaps, " the landlord replied; "but, bless ye, that won't matter. There's four more in his heat to-morrow. Two I know aren't tryers, and theother two I can hold in at a couple of quid apiece any day. The thirdround and final won't be till to-morrow week, and he'll be as fit as everby then. It's as safe as ever it was. How much are you going to have on?I'll lump it on for you safe enough. This is a chance not to be missed;it's picking money up. "

"Thank you; I don't think I'll have anything to do with it. Thisprofessional pedestrian business doesn't seem a pretty one at all. I don'tcall myself a moralist, but, if you'll excuse my saying so, the thing isscarcely the game I care to pick tap money at in any way. "

"Oh, very well! if you think so, I won't persuade ye, though I don't thinkso much of your smartness as I did, after that. Still, we won't quarrel;you've done me a mighty good turn, that I must say, and I only feel Iaren't level without doing something to pay the debt. Come, now, you'vegot your trade as I've got mine. Let me have the bill, and I'll pay itlike a lord, and feel a deal more pleased than if you made a favor ofit--not that I'm above a favor, of course. But I'd prefer paying, andthat's a fact. "

"My dear sir, you have paid, " Hewitt said, with a smile. "You paid inadvance. It was a bargain, wasn't it, that I should do your business ifyou would help me in mine? Very well; a bargain's a bargain, and we'veboth performed our parts. And you mustn't be offended at what I said justnow. "

"That I won't! But as to that Raggy Steggles, once those heats are overto-morrow, I'll--well----"

It was on the following Sunday week that Martin Hewitt, in his rooms inLondon, turned over his paper and read, under the head "Padfield Annual135 Yards Handicap, " this announcement: "Final heat: Crockett, first;Willis, second; Trewby, third; Owen, 0; Howell, 0. A runaway win by nearlythree yards. "

III. 

THE CASE OF MR. FOGGATT. 

Almost the only dogmatism that Martin Hewitt permitted himself in regardto his professional methods was one on the matter of accumulativeprobabilities. Often when I have remarked upon the apparently trivialnature of the clews by which he allowed himself to be guided--sometimes, to all seeming, in the very face of all likelihood--he has replied thattwo trivialities, pointing in the same direction, became at once, by theirmere agreement, no trivialities at all, but enormously importantconsiderations. "If I were in search of a man, " he would say, "of whom Iknew nothing but that he squinted, bore a birthmark on his right hand, andlimped, and I observed a man who answered to the first peculiarity, so farthe clue would be trivial, because thousands of men squint. Now, if thatman presently moved and exhibited a birthmark on his right hand, thevalue of that squint and that mark would increase at once a hundred ora thousand fold. Apart they are little; together much. The weight ofevidence is not doubled merely; it would be only doubled if half the menwho squinted had right-hand birthmarks; whereas the proportion, if itcould be ascertained, would be, perhaps, more like one in ten thousand. The two trivialities, pointing in the same direction, become very strongevidence. And, when the man is seen to walk with a limp, that limp(another triviality), re-enforcing the others, brings the matter to therank of a practical certainty. The Bertillon system of identification--whatis it but a summary of trivialities? Thousands of men are of the sameheight, thousands of the same length of foot, thousands of the same girthof head--thousands correspond in any separate measurement you may name. Itis when the measurements are taken _together_ that you have your manidentified forever. Just consider how few, if any, of your friendscorrespond exactly in any two personal peculiarities. " Hewitt's dogmareceived its illustration unexpectedly close at home. 

The old house wherein my chambers and Hewitt's office were situatedcontained, besides my own, two or three more bachelors' dens, in additionto the offices on the ground and first and second floors. At the very topof all, at the back, a fat, middle-aged man, named Foggatt, occupied a setof four rooms. It was only after a long residence, by an accidental remarkof the housekeeper's, that I learned the man's name, which was not paintedon his door or displayed, with all the others, on the wall of theground-floor porch. 

Mr. Foggatt appeared to have few friends, but lived in something as nearlyapproaching luxury as an old bachelor living in chambers can live. Anascending case of champagne was a common phenomenon of the staircase, andI have more than once seen a picture, destined for the top floor, of asort that went far to awaken green covetousness in the heart of a poorjournalist. 

The man himself was not altogether prepossessing. Fat as he was, he had away of carrying his head forward on his extended neck and gazing widelyabout with a pair of the roundest and most prominent eyes I remember tohave ever seen, except in a fish. On the whole, his appearance was rathervulgar, rather arrogant, and rather suspicious, without any verypronounced quality of any sort. But certainly he was not pretty. In theend, however, he was found shot dead in his sitting-room. 

It was in this way: Hewitt and I had dined together at my club, and latein the evening had returned to my rooms to smoke and discuss whatever cameuppermost. I had made a bargain that day with two speculative odd lots ata book sale, each of which contained a hidden prize. We sat talking andturning over these books while time went unperceived, when suddenly wewere startled by a loud report. Clearly it was in the building. Welistened for a moment, but heard nothing else, and then Hewitt expressedhis opinion that the report was that of a gunshot. Gunshots in residentialchambers are not common things, wherefore I got up and went to thelanding, looking up the stairs and down. 

At the top of the next flight I saw Mrs. Clayton, the housekeeper. Sheappeared to be frightened, and told me that the report came from Mr. Foggatt's room. She thought he might have had an accident with the pistolthat usually lay on his mantel-piece. We went upstairs with her, and sheknocked at Mr. Foggatt's door. 

There was no reply. Through the ventilating fanlight over the door itcould be seen that there were lights within, a sign, Mrs. Claytonmaintained, that Mr. Foggatt was not out. We knocked again, much moreloudly, and called, but still ineffectually. The door was locked, and anapplication of the housekeeper's key proved that the tenant's key had beenleft in the lock inside. Mrs. Clayton's conviction that "something hadhappened" became distressing, and in the end Hewitt pried open the doorwith a small poker. 

Something _had_ happened. In the sitting-room Mr. Foggatt sat with hishead bowed over the table, quiet and still. The head was ill to look at, and by it lay a large revolver, of the full-sized army pattern. Mrs. Clayton ran back toward the landing with faint screams. 

"Run, Brett!" said Hewitt; "a doctor and a policeman!"

I bounced down the stairs half a flight at a time. "First, " I thought, "adoctor. He may not be dead. " I could think of no doctor in the immediateneighborhood, but ran up the street away from the Strand, as being themore likely direction for the doctor, although less so for the policeman. It took me a good five minutes to find the medico, after being led astrayby a red lamp at a private hotel, and another five to get back, with apoliceman. 

Foggatt was dead, without a doubt. Probably had shot himself, the doctorthought, from the powder-blackening and other circumstances. Certainlynobody could have left the room by the door, or he must have passed mylanding, while the fact of the door being found locked from the insidemade the thing impossible. There were two windows to the room, both ofwhich were shut, one being fastened by the catch, while the catch of theother was broken--an old fracture. Below these windows was a sheer drop offifty feet or more, without a foot or hand-hold near. The windows in theother rooms were shut and fastened. Certainly it seemed suicide--unless itwere one of those accidents that will occur to people who fiddleignorantly with firearms. Soon the rooms were in possession of the police, and we were turned out. 

We looked in at the housekeeper's kitchen, where her daughter was revivingand calming Mrs. Clayton with gin and water. 

"You mustn't upset yourself, Mrs. Clayton, " Hewitt said, "or what willbecome of us all? The doctor thinks it was an accident. "

He took a small bottle of sewing-machine oil from his pocket and handed itto the daughter, thanking her for the loan. 

 * * * * *

There was little evidence at the inquest. The shot had been heard, thebody had been found--that was the practical sum of the matter. No friendsor relatives of the dead man came forward. The doctor gave his opinion asto the probability of suicide or an accident, and the police evidencetended in the same direction. Nothing had been found to indicate that anyother person had been near the dead man's rooms on the night of thefatality. On the other hand, his papers, bankbook, etc. , proved him to bea man of considerable substance, with no apparent motive for suicide. Thepolice had been unable to trace any relatives, or, indeed, any nearerconnections than casual acquaintances, fellow-clubmen, and so on. The juryfound that Mr. Foggatt had died by accident. 

"Well, Brett, " Hewitt asked me afterward, "what do you think of theverdict?"

I said that it seemed to be the most reasonable one possible, and tosquare with the common-sense view of the case. 

"Yes, " he replied, "perhaps it does. From the point of view of the jury, and on their information, their verdict was quite reasonable. Nevertheless, Mr. Foggatt did not shoot himself. He was shot by a rathertall, active young man, perhaps a sailor, but certainly a gymnast--a youngman whom I think I could identify if I saw him. "

"But how do you know this?"

"By the simplest possible inferences, which you may easily guess, if youwill but think. "

"But, then, why didn't you say this at the inquest?"

"My dear fellow, they don't want any inferences and conjectures at aninquest; they only want evidence. If I had traced the murderer, of coursethen I should have communicated with the police. As a matter of fact, itis quite possible that the police have observed and know as much as Ido--or more. They don't give everything away at an inquest, you know. Itwouldn't do. "

"But, if you are right, how did the man get away?"

"Come, we are near home now. Let us take a look at the back of the house. He _couldn't_ have left by Foggatt's landing door, as we know; and as he_was_ there (I am certain of that), and as the chimney is out of thequestion--for there was a good fire in the grate--he must have gone out bythe window. Only one window is possible--that with the broken catch--forall the others were fastened inside. Out of that window, then, he went. "

"But how? The window is fifty feet up. "

"Of course it is. But why _will_ you persist in assuming that the only wayof escape by a window is downward? See, now, look up there. The window isat the top floor, and it has a very broad sill. Over the window is nothingbut the flat face of the gable-end; but to the right, and a foot or twoabove the level of the top of the window, an iron gutter ends. Observe, itis not of lead composition, but a strong iron gutter, supported, just atits end, by an iron bracket. If a tall man stood on the end of thewindow-sill, steadying himself by the left hand and leaning to the right, he could just touch the end of this gutter with his right hand. The fullstretch, toe to finger, is seven feet three inches. I have measured it. Anactive gymnast, or a sailor, could catch the gutter with a slight spring, and by it draw himself upon the roof. You will say he would have to be_very_ active, dexterous, and cool. So he would. And that very fact helpsus, because it narrows the field of inquiry. We know the sort of man tolook for. Because, being certain (as I am) that the man was in the room, I_know_ that he left in the way I am telling you. He must have left in someway, and, all the other ways being impossible, this alone remains, difficult as the feat may seem. The fact of his shutting the window behindhim further proves his coolness and address at so great a height from theground. "

All this was very plain, but the main point was still dark. 

"You say you _know_ that another man was in the room, " I said; "how do youknow that?"

"As I said, by an obvious inference. Come, now, you shall guess how Iarrived at that inference. You often speak of your interest in my work, and the attention with which you follow it. This shall be a simpleexercise for you. You saw everything in the room as plainly as I myself. Bring the scene back to your memory, and think over the various smallobjects littering about, and how they would affect the case. Quickobservation is the first essential for my work. Did you see a newspaper, for instance?"

"Yes. There was an evening paper on the floor, but I didn't examine it. "

"Anything else?"

"On the table there was a whisky decanter, taken from the tantalus-standon the sideboard, and one glass. That, by the by, " I added, "looked asthough only one person were present. "

"So it did, perhaps, although the inference wouldn't be very strong. Goon!"

"There was a fruit-stand on the sideboard, with a plate beside itcontaining a few nutshells, a piece of apple, a pair of nut-crackers, and, I think, some orange peel. There was, of course, all the ordinaryfurniture, but no chair pulled up to the table, except that used byFoggatt himself. That's all I noticed, I think. Stay--there was anash-tray on the table, and a partly burned cigar near it--only one cigar, though. "

"Excellent--excellent, indeed, as far as memory and simple observation go. You saw everything plainly, and you remember everything. Surely _now_ youknow how I found out that another man had just left?"

"No, I don't; unless there were different kinds of ash in the ash-tray. "

"That is a fairly good suggestion, but there were not--there was only asingle ash, corresponding in every way to that on the cigar. Don't youremember everything that I did as we went down-stairs?"

"You returned a bottle of oil to the housekeeper's daughter, I think. "

"I did. Doesn't that give you a hint? Come, you surely have it now?"

"I haven't. "

"Then I sha'n't tell you; you don't deserve it. Think, and don't mentionthe subject again till you have at least one guess to make. The thingstares you in the face; you see it, you remember it, and yet you _won't_see it. I won't encourage your slovenliness of thought, my boy, by tellingyou what you can know for yourself if you like. Good-by--I'm off now. There's a case in hand I can't neglect. "

"Don't you propose to go further into this, then?"

Hewitt shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a policeman, " he said. "The caseis in very good hands. Of course, if anybody comes to me to do it as amatter of business, I'll take it up. It's very interesting, but I can'tneglect my regular work for it. Naturally, I shall keep my eyes open andmy memory in order. Sometimes these things come into the hands bythemselves, as it were; in that case, of course, I am a loyal citizen, andready to help the law. _Au revoir_!"

 * * * * *

I am a busy man myself, and thought little more of Hewitt's conundrum forsome time; indeed, when I did think, I saw no way to the answer. A weekafter the inquest I took a holiday (I had written my nightly leadersregularly every day for the past five years), and saw no more of Hewittfor six weeks. After my return, with still a few days of leave to run, oneevening we together turned into Luzatti's, off Coventry Street, fordinner. 

"I have been here several times lately, " Hewitt said; "they feed you verywell. No, not that table"--he seized my arm as I turned to an unoccupiedcorner--"I fancy it's draughty. " He led the way to a longer table where adark, lithe, and (as well as could be seen) tall young man already sat, and took chairs opposite him. 

We had scarcely seated ourselves before Hewitt broke into a torrent ofconversation on the subject of bicycling. As our previous conversation hadbeen of a literary sort, and as I had never known Hewitt at any other timeto show the slightest interest in bicycling, this rather surprised me. Ihad, however, such a general outsider's grasp of the subject as is usualin a journalist-of-all-work, and managed to keep the talk going from myside. As we went on I could see the face of the young man oppositebrighten with interest. He was a rather fine-looking fellow, with a dark, though very clear skin, but had a hard, angry look of eye, a prominence ofcheek-bone, and a squareness of jaw that gave him a rather uninvitingaspect. As Hewitt rattled on, however, our neighbor's expression becameone of pleasant interest merely. 

"Of course, " Hewitt said, "we've a number of very capital men just now, but I believe a deal in the forgotten riders of five, ten, and fifteenyears back. Osmond, I believe, was better than any man riding now, and Ithink it would puzzle some of them to beat Furnivall as he was, at hisbest. But poor old Cortis--really, I believe he was as good as anybody. Nobody ever beat Cortis--except--let me see--I think somebody beat Cortisonce--who was it now? I can't remember. "

"Liles, " said the young man opposite, looking up quickly. 

"Ah, yes--Liles it was; Charley Liles. Wasn't it a championship?"

"Mile championship, 1880; Cortis won the other three, though. "

"Yes, so he did. I saw Cortis when he first broke the old 2. 46 milerecord. " And straightway Hewitt plunged into a whirl of talk of bicycles, tricycles, records, racing cyclists, Hillier, and Synyer and Noel Whiting, Taylerson and Appleyard--talk wherein the young man opposite bore ananimated share, while I was left in the cold. 

Our new friend, it seems, had himself been a prominent racing bicyclist afew years back, and was presently, at Hewitt's request, exhibiting a neatgold medal that hung at his watch-guard. That was won, he explained, inthe old tall bicycle days, the days of bad tracks, when every racingcyclist carried cinder scars on his face from numerous accidents. Hepointed to a blue mark on his forehead, which, he told us, was a trackscar, and described a bad fall that had cost him two teeth, and brokenothers. The gaps among his teeth were plain to see as he smiled. 

Presently the waiter brought dessert, and the young man opposite took anapple. Nut-crackers and a fruit-knife lay on our side of the stand, andHewitt turned the stand to offer him the knife. 

"No, thanks, " he said; "I only polish a good apple, never peel it. It's amistake, except with thick-skinned foreign ones. "

And he began to munch the apple as only a boy or a healthy athlete can. Presently he turned his head to order coffee. The waiter's back wasturned, and he had to be called twice. To my unutterable amazement Hewittreached swiftly across the table, snatched the half-eaten apple from theyoung man's plate and pocketed it, gazing immediately, with an abstractedair, at a painted Cupid on the ceiling. 

Our neighbor turned again, looked doubtfully at his plate and thetable-cloth about it, and then shot a keen glance in the direction ofHewitt. He said nothing, however, but took his coffee and his bill, deliberately drank the former, gazing quietly at Hewitt as he did it, paidthe latter, and left. 

Immediately Hewitt was on his feet and, taking an umbrella, which stoodnear, followed. Just as he reached the door he met our late neighbor, whohad turned suddenly back. 

"Your umbrella, I think?" Hewitt asked, offering it. 

"Yes, thanks. " But the man's eye had more than its former hardness, andhis jaw muscles tightened as I looked. He turned and went. Hewitt cameback to me. "Pay the bill, " he said, "and go back to your rooms; I willcome on later. I must follow this man--it's the Foggatt case. " As he wentout I heard a cab rattle away, and immediately after it another. 

I paid the bill and went home. It was ten o'clock before Hewitt turned up, calling in at his office below on his way up to me. 

"Mr. Sidney Mason, " he said, "is the gentleman the police will be wantingto-morrow, I expect, for the Foggatt murder. He is as smart a man as Iremember ever meeting, and has done me rather neatly twice this evening. "

"You mean the man we sat opposite at Luzatti's, of course?"

"Yes, I got his name, of course, from the reverse of that gold medal hewas good enough to show me. But I fear he has bilked me over the address. He suspected me, that was plain, and left his umbrella by way ofexperiment to see if I were watching him sharply enough to notice thecircumstance, and to avail myself of it to follow him. I was hasty andfell into the trap. He cabbed it away from Luzatti's, and I cabbed itafter him. He has led me a pretty dance up and down London to-night, andtwo cabbies have made quite a stroke of business out of us. In the end heentered a house of which, of course, I have taken the address, but Iexpect he doesn't live there. He is too smart a man to lead me to his den;but the police can certainly find something of him at the house he went inat--and, I expect, left by the back way. By the way, you never guessedthat simple little puzzle as to how I found that this _was_ a murder, didyou? You see it now, of course?"

"Something to do with that apple you stole, I suppose?"

"Something to do with it? I should think so, you worthy innocent. Justring your bell; we'll borrow Mrs. Clayton's sewing-machine oil again. Onthe night we broke into Foggatt's room you saw the nutshells and thebitten remains of an apple on the sideboard, and you remembered it; andyet you couldn't see that in that piece of apple possibly lay an importantpiece of evidence. Of course I never expected you to have arrived at anyconclusion, as I had, because I had ten minutes in which to examine thatapple, and to do what I did with it. But, at least, you should have seenthe possibility of evidence in it. 

"First, now, the apple was white. A bitten apple, as you must haveobserved, turns of a reddish brown color if left to stand long. Differentkinds of apples brown with different rapidities, and the browning alwaysbegins at the core. This is one of the twenty thousand tiny things thatfew people take the trouble to notice, but which it is useful for a man inmy position to know. A russet will brown quite quickly. The apple on thesideboard was, as near as I could tell, a Newtown pippin or other apple ofthat kind, which will brown at the core in from twenty minutes to half anhour, and in other parts in a quarter of an hour more. When we saw it, itwas white, with barely a tinge of brown about the exposed core. Inference, somebody had been eating it fifteen or twenty minutes before, perhaps alittle longer--an inference supported by the fact that it was only partlyeaten. 

"I examined that apple, and found it bore marks of very irregular teeth. While you were gone, I oiled it over, and, rushing down to my rooms, whereI always have a little plaster of Paris handy for such work, took a moldof the part where the teeth had left the clearest marks. I then returnedthe apple to its place for the police to use if they thought fit. Lookingat my mold, it was plain that the person who had bitten that apple hadlost two teeth, one at top and one below, not exactly opposite, but nearlyso. The other teeth, although they would appear to have been fairly sound, were irregular in size and line. Now, the dead man had, as I saw, a veryexcellent set of false teeth, regular and sharp, with none missing. Therefore it was plain that somebody _else_ had been eating that apple. DoI make myself clear?"

"Quite! Go on!"

"There were other inferences to be made--slighter, but all pointing thesame way. For instance, a man of Foggatt's age does not, as a rule, munchan unpeeled apple like a school-boy. Inference, a young man, and healthy. Why I came to the conclusion that he was tall, active, a gymnast, andperhaps a sailor, I have already told you, when we examined the outside ofFoggatt's window. It was also pretty clear that robbery was not themotive, since nothing was disturbed, and that a friendly conversation hadpreceded the murder--witness the drinking and the eating of the apple. Whether or not the police noticed these things I can't say. If they hadhad their best men on, they certainly would, I think; but the case, to arough observer, looked so clearly one of accident or suicide that possiblythey didn't. 

"As I said, after the inquest I was unable to devote any immediate time tothe case, but I resolved to keep my eyes open. The man to look for wastall, young, strong and active, with a very irregular set of teeth, atooth missing from the lower jaw just to the left of the center, andanother from the upper jaw a little farther still toward the left. Hemight possibly be a person I had seen about the premises (I have a goodmemory for faces), or, of course, he possibly might not. 

"Just before you returned from your holiday I noticed a young man atLuzatti's whom I remembered to have seen somewhere about the offices inthis building. He was tall, young, and so on, but I had a client with me, and was unable to examine him more narrowly; indeed, as I was not exactlyengaged on the case, and as there are several tall young men about, I tooklittle trouble. But to-day, finding the same young man with a vacant seatopposite him, I took the opportunity of making a closer acquaintance. "

"You certainly managed to draw him out. "

"Oh, yes; the easiest person in the world to draw out is a cyclist. Theeasiest cyclist to draw out is, of course, the novice, but the nexteasiest is the veteran. When you see a healthy, well-trained-looking man, who, nevertheless, has a slight stoop in the shoulders, and, maybe, amedal on his watch-guard, it is always a safe card to try him first with alittle cycle-racing talk. I soon brought Mr. Mason out of his shell, readhis name on his medal, and had a chance of observing his teeth--indeed, hespoke of them himself. Now, as I observed just now, there are severaltall, athletic young men about, and also there are several men who havelost teeth. But now I saw that this tall and athletic young man had lostexactly _two_ teeth--one from the lower jaw, just to the left of thecenter, and another from the upper jaw, farther still toward the left!Trivialities, pointing in the same direction, became importantconsiderations. More, his teeth were irregular throughout, and, as nearlyas I could remember it, looked remarkably like this little plaster mold ofmine. "

He produced from his pocket an irregular lump of plaster, about threeinches long. On one side of this appeared in relief the likeness of twoirregular rows of six or eight teeth, minus one in each row, where a deepgap was seen, in the position spoken of by my friend. He proceeded:

"This was enough at least to set me after this young man. But he gave methe greatest chance of all when he turned and left his apple (eatenunpeeled, remember!--another important triviality) on his plate. I'mafraid I wasn't at all polite, and I ran the risk of arousing hissuspicions, but I couldn't resist the temptation to steal it. I did, asyou saw, and here it is. "

He brought the apple from his coat-pocket. One bitten side, placed againstthe upper half of the mold, fitted precisely, a projection of applefilling exactly the deep gap. The other side similarly fitted the lowerhalf. 

"There's no getting behind that, you see, " Hewitt remarked. "Merelyobserving the man's teeth was a guide, to some extent, but this is asplain as his signature or his thumb impression. You'll never find two men_bite_ exactly alike, no matter whether they leave distinct teeth-marks ornot. Here, by the by, is Mrs. Clayton's oil. We'll take another mold fromthis apple, and compare _them_. "

He oiled the apple, heaped a little plaster in a newspaper, took mywater-jug, and rapidly pulled off a hard mold. The parts corresponding tothe merely broken places in the apple were, of course, dissimilar; but asto the teeth-marks, the impressions were identical. 

"That will do, I think, " Hewitt said. "Tomorrow morning, Brett, I shallput up these things in a small parcel, and take them round to Bow Street. "

"But are they sufficient evidence?"

"Quite sufficient for the police purpose. There is the man, and all therest--his movements on the day and so forth--are simple matters ofinquiry; at any rate, that is police business. "

 * * * * *

I had scarcely sat down to my breakfast on the following morning whenHewitt came into the room and put a long letter before me. 

"From our friend of last night, " he said; "read it. "

This letter began abruptly, and undated, and was as follows:

"TO MARTIN HEWITT, ESQ. 

"SIR: I must compliment you on the adroitness you exhibited this eveningin extracting from me my name. The address I was able to balk you of forthe time being, although by the time you read this you will probably havefound it through the _Law List_, as I am an admitted solicitor. That, however, will be of little use to you, for I am removing myself, I think, beyond the reach even of your abilities of search. I knew you well bysight, and was, perhaps, foolish to allow myself to be drawn as I did. Still, I had no idea that it would be dangerous, especially after seeingyou, as a witness with very little to say, at the inquest upon thescoundrel I shot. Your somewhat discourteous seizure of my apple at firstamazed me--indeed, I was a little doubtful as to whether you had reallytaken it--but it was my first warning that you might be playing a deepgame against me, incomprehensible as the action was to my mind. Isubsequently reflected that I had been eating an apple, instead of takingthe drink he first offered me, in the dead wretch's rooms on the night hecame to his merited end. From this I assume that your design was in someway to compare what remained of the two apples--although I do not presumeto fathom the depths of your detective system. Still, I have heard of manyof your cases, and profoundly admire the keenness you exhibit. I amthought to be a keen man myself, but, although I was able, to some extent, to hold my own to-night, I admit that your acumen in this case alone issomething beyond me. 

"I do not know by whom you are commissioned to hunt me, nor to what extentyou may be acquainted with my connection with the creature I killed. Ihave sufficient respect for you, however, to wish that you should notregard me as a vicious criminal, and a couple of hours to spare in whichto offer you an explanation that will convince you that such is notaltogether the case. A hasty and violent temper I admit possessing; buteven now I can not forget the one crime it has led me into--for it is, Isuppose, strictly speaking, a crime. For it was the man Foggatt who made afelon of my father before the eyes of the world, and killed him withshame. It was he who murdered my mother, and none the less murdered herbecause she died of a broken heart. That he was also a thief and ahypocrite might have concerned me little but for that. 

"Of my father I remember very little. He must, I fear, have been a weakand incapable man in many respects. He had no business abilities--in fact, was quite unable to understand the complicated business matters in whichhe largely dealt. Foggatt was a consummate master of all those arts offinancial jugglery that make so many fortunes, and ruin so many others, inmatters of company promoting, stocks, and shares. He was unable toexercise them, however, because of a great financial disaster in which hehad been mixed up a few years before, and which made his name one to beavoided in future. In these circumstances he made a sort of secret andinformal partnership with my father, who, ostensibly alone in thebusiness, acted throughout on the directions of Foggatt, understanding aslittle what he did, poor, simple man, as a schoolboy would have done. Thetransactions carried on went from small to large, and, unhappily fromhonorable to dishonorable. My father relied on the superior abilities ofFoggatt with an absolute trust, carrying out each day the directions givenhim privately the previous evening, buying, selling, printingprospectuses, signing whatever had to be signed, all with soleresponsibility and as sole partner, while Foggatt, behind the scenesabsorbed the larger share of the profits. In brief, my unhappy and foolishfather was a mere tool in the hands of the cunning scoundrel who pulledall the wires of the business, himself unseen and irresponsible. At lastthree companies, for the promotion of which my father was responsible, came to grief in a heap. Fraud was written large over all their history, and, while Foggatt retired with his plunder, my father was left to meetruin, disgrace, and imprisonment. From beginning to end he, and he only, was responsible. There was no shred of evidence to connect Foggatt withthe matter, and no means of escape from the net drawn about my father. Helived through three years of imprisonment, and then, entirely abandoned bythe man who had made use of his simplicity, he died--of nothing but shameand a broken heart. 

"Of this I knew nothing at the time. Again and again, as a small boy, Iremember asking of my mother why I had no father at home, as other boyshad--unconscious of the stab I thus inflicted on her gentle heart. Of hermy earliest, as well as my latest, memory is that of a pale, weepingwoman, who grudged to let me out of her sight. 

"Little by little I learned the whole cause of my mother's grief, for shehad no other confidant, and I fear my character developed early, for myfirst coherent remembrance of the matter is that of a childish design totake a table-knife and kill the bad man who had made my father die inprison and caused my mother to cry. 

"One thing, however, I never knew--the name of that bad man. Again andagain, as I grew older, I demanded to know, but my mother always withheldit from me, with a gentle reminder that vengeance was for a greater handthan mine. 

"I was seventeen years of age when my mother died. I believe that nothingbut her strong attachment to myself and her desire to see me safelystarted in life kept her alive so long. Then I found that through allthose years of narrowed means she had contrived to scrape and save alittle money--sufficient, as it afterward proved, to see me through theexaminations for entrance to my profession, with the generous assistanceof my father's old legal advisers, who gave me my articles, and who haveall along treated me with extreme kindness. 

"For most of the succeeding years my life does not concern the matter inhand. I was a lawyer's clerk in my benefactors' service, and afterward aqualified man among their assistants. All through the firm were careful, in pursuance of my poor mother's wishes, that I should not learn the nameor whereabouts of the man who had wrecked her life and my father's. Ifirst met the man himself at the Clifton Club, where I had gone with anacquaintance who was a member. It was not till afterward that I understoodhis curious awkwardness on that occasion. A week later I called (as I hadfrequently done) at the building in which your office is situated, onbusiness with a solicitor who has an office on the floor above your own. On the stairs I almost ran against Mr. Foggatt. He started and turnedpale, exhibiting signs of alarm that I could not understand, and asked meif I wished to see him. 

"'No, ' I replied, 'I didn't know you lived here. I am after somebody elsejust now. Aren't you well?'

"He looked at me rather doubtfully, and said he was _not_ very well. 

"I met him twice or thrice after that, and on each occasion his mannergrew more friendly, in a servile, flattering, and mean sort of way--athing unpleasant enough in anybody, but doubly so in the intercourse of aman with another young enough to be his own son. Still, of course, Itreated the man civilly enough. On one occasion he asked me into his roomsto look at a rather fine picture he had lately bought, and observedcasually, lifting a large revolver from the mantel-piece:

"'You see, I am prepared for any unwelcome visitors to my little den! He!He!' Conceiving him, of course, to refer to burglars, I could not helpwondering at the forced and hollow character of his laugh. As we went downthe stairs he said: 'I think we know one another pretty well now, Mr. Mason, eh? And if I could do anything to advance your professionalprospects, I should be glad of the chance, of course. I understand thestruggles of a young professional man--he! he!' It was the forced laughagain, and the man spoke nervously. 'I think, ' he added, 'that if you willdrop in to-morrow evening, perhaps I may have a little proposal to make. Will you?'

"I assented, wondering what this proposal could be. Perhaps this eccentricold gentleman was a good fellow, after all, anxious to do me a good turn, and his awkwardness was nothing but a natural delicacy in breaking theice. I was not so flush of good friends as to be willing to lose one. Hemight be desirous of putting business in my way. 

"I went, and was received with cordiality that even then seemed a littleover-effusive. We sat and talked of one thing and another for a longwhile, and I began to wonder when Mr. Foggatt was coming to the point thatmost interested me. Several times he invited me to drink and smoke, butlong usage to athletic training has given me a distaste for bothpractices, and I declined. At last he began to talk about myself. He wasafraid that my professional prospects in this country were not great, buthe had heard that in some of the colonies--South Africa, forexample--young lawyers had brilliant opportunities. 

"'If you'd like to go there, ' he said, 'I've no doubt, with a littlecapital, a clever man like you could get a grand practice together verysoon. Or you might buy a share in some good established practice. I shouldbe glad to let you have £500, or even a little more, if that wouldn'tsatisfy you, and----'

"I stood aghast. Why should this man, almost a stranger, offer me £500, oreven more, 'if that wouldn't satisfy' me? What claim had I on him? It wasvery generous of him, of course, but out of the question. I was, at least, a gentleman, and had a gentleman's self-respect. Meanwhile, he had gonemaundering on, in a halting sort of way, and presently let slip a sentencethat struck me like a blow between the eyes. 

"'I shouldn't like you to bear ill-will because of what has happened inthe past, ' he said. 'Your late--your late lamented mother--I'm afraid--shehad unworthy suspicions--I'm sure--it was best for all parties--yourfather always appreciated----'

"I set back my chair and stood erect before him. This groveling wretch, forcing the words through his dry lips, was the thief who had made anotherof my father and had brought to miserable ends the lives of both myparents! Everything was clear. The creature went in fear of me, neverimagining that I did not know him, and sought to buy me off--to buy mefrom the remembrance of my dead mother's broken heart for £500--£500 thathe had made my father steal for him! I said not a word. But the memory ofall my mother's bitter years, and a savage sense of this crowning insultto myself, took a hold upon me, and I was a tiger. Even then I verilybelieve that one word of repentance, one tone of honest remorse, wouldhave saved him. But he drooped his eyes, snuffled excuses, and stammeredof 'unworthy suspicions' and 'no ill-will. ' I let him stammer. Presentlyhe looked up and saw my face; and fell back in his chair, sick withterror. I snatched the pistol from the mantel-piece, and, thrusting it inhis face, shot him where he sat. 

"My subsequent coolness and quietness surprise me now. I took my hat andstepped toward the door. But there were voices on the stairs. The door waslocked on the inside, and I left it so. I went back and quietly opened awindow. Below was a clear drop into darkness, and above was plain wall;but away to one side, where the slope of the gable sprang from the roof, an iron gutter ended, supported by a strong bracket. It was the only way. I got upon the sill and carefully shut the window behind me, for peoplewere already knocking at the lobby door. From the end of the sill, holdingon by the reveal of the window with one hand, leaning and stretching myutmost, I caught the gutter, swung myself clear, and scrambled on theroof. I climbed over many roofs before I found, in an adjoining street, aladder lashed perpendicularly against the front of a house in course ofrepair. This, to me, was an easy opportunity of descent, notwithstandingthe boards fastened over the face of the ladder, and I availed myself ofit. 

"I have taken some time and trouble in order that you (so far as I amaware the only human being beside myself who knows me to be the author ofFoggatt's death) shall have at least the means of appraising my crime atits just value of culpability. How much you already know of what I havetold you I can not guess. I am wrong, hardened, and flagitious, I make nodoubt, but I speak of the facts as they are. You see the thing, of course, from your own point of view--I from mine. And I remember my mother!

"Trusting that you will forgive the odd freak of a man--a criminal, let ussay--who makes a confidant of the man set to hunt him down, I beg leave tobe, sir, your obedient servant, "SIDNEY MASON. "

I read the singular document through and handed it back to Hewitt. 

"How does it strike you?" Hewitt asked. 

"Mason would seem to be a man of very marked character, " I said. "Certainly no fool. And, if his tale is true, Foggatt is no great loss tothe world. "

"Just so--if the tale is true. Personally I am disposed to believe it is. "

"Where was the letter posted?"

"It wasn't posted. It was handed in with the others from the front-doorletter-box this morning in an unstamped envelope. He must have dropped itin himself during the night. Paper, " Hewitt proceeded, holding it up tothe light, "Turkey mill, ruled foolscap. Envelope, blue, official shape, Pirie's watermark. Both quite ordinary and no special marks. "

"Where do you suppose he's gone?"

"Impossible to guess. Some might think he meant suicide by the expression'beyond the reach even of your abilities of search, ' but I scarcely thinkhe is the sort of man to do that. No, there is no telling. Something maybe got by inquiring at his late address, of course; but, when such a mantells you he doesn't think you will find him, you may count upon its beinga difficult job. His opinion is not to be despised. "

"What shall you do?"

"Put the letter in the box with the casts for the police. _Fiat justitia_, you know, without any question of sentiment. As to the apple, I reallythink, if the police will let me, I'll make you a present of it. Keep itsomewhere as a souvenir of your absolute deficiency in reflectiveobservation in this case, and look at it whenever you feel yourselfgrowing dangerously conceited. It should cure you. "

 * * * * *

This is the history of the withered and almost petrified half apple thatstands in my cabinet among a number of flint implements and one or tworather fine old Roman vessels. Of Mr. Sidney Mason we never heard anotherword. The police did their best, but he had left not a track behind him. His rooms were left almost undisturbed, and he had gone without anythingin the way of elaborate preparation for his journey, and without leaving atrace of his intentions. 

IV. 

THE CASE OF THE DIXON TORPEDO. 

Hewitt was very apt, in conversation, to dwell upon the many curiouschances and coincidences that he had observed, not only in connection withhis own cases, but also in matters dealt with by the official police, withwhom he was on terms of pretty regular, and, indeed, friendly, acquaintanceship. He has told me many an anecdote of singular happeningsto Scotland Yard officials with whom he has exchanged experiences. OfInspector Nettings, for instance, who spent many weary months in a searchfor a man wanted by the American Government, and in the end found, by themerest accident (a misdirected call), that the man had been lodging nextdoor to himself the whole of the time; just as ignorant, of course, as wasthe inspector himself as to the enemy at the other side of the party-wall. Also of another inspector, whose name I can not recall, who, having beengiven rather meager and insufficient details of a man whom he anticipatedhaving great difficulty in finding, went straight down the stairs of theoffice where he had received instructions, and actually _fell over_ theman near the door, where he had stooped down to tie his shoe-lace! Therewere cases, too, in which, when a great and notorious crime had beencommitted, and various persons had been arrested on suspicion, some werefound among them who had long been badly wanted for some other crimealtogether. Many criminals had met their deserts by venturing out of theirown particular line of crime into another; often a man who got intotrouble over something comparatively small found himself in for astartlingly larger trouble, the result of some previous misdeed thatotherwise would have gone unpunished. The ruble note-forger Mirsky mightnever have been handed over to the Russian authorities had he confined hisgenius to forgery alone. It was generally supposed at the time of hisextradition that he had communicated with the Russian Embassy, with a viewto giving himself up--a foolish proceeding on his part, it would seem, since his whereabouts, indeed even his identity as the forger, had notbeen suspected. He _had_ communicated with the Russian Embassy, it istrue, but for quite a different purpose, as Martin Hewitt well understoodat the time. What that purpose was is now for the first time published. 

 * * * * *

The time was half-past one in the afternoon, and Hewitt sat in his inneroffice examining and comparing the handwriting of two letters by the aidof a large lens. He put down the lens and glanced at the clock on themantel-piece with a premonition of lunch; and as he did so his clerkquietly entered the room with one of those printed slips which were keptfor the announcement of unknown visitors. It was filled up in a hasty andalmost illegible hand, thus:

Name of visitor: _F. Graham Dixon_. 

Address: _Chancery Lane_. 

Business: _Private and urgent_. 

"Show Mr. Dixon in, " said Martin Hewitt. 

Mr. Dixon was a gaunt, worn-looking man of fifty or so, well, althoughrather carelessly, dressed, and carrying in his strong, though drawn, faceand dullish eyes the look that characterizes the life-long strenuousbrain-worker. He leaned forward anxiously in the chair which Hewittoffered him, and told his story with a great deal of very naturalagitation. 

"You may possibly have heard, Mr. Hewitt--I know there are rumors--of thenew locomotive torpedo which the government is about adopting; it is, infact, the Dixon torpedo, my own invention, and in every respect--notmerely in my own opinion, but in that of the government experts--by farthe most efficient and certain yet produced. It will travel at least fourhundred yards farther than any torpedo now made, with perfect accuracy ofaim (a very great desideratum, let me tell you), and will carry anunprecedentedly heavy charge. There are other advantages--speed, simpledischarge, and so forth--that I needn't bother you about. The machine isthe result of many years of work and disappointment, and its design hasonly been arrived at by a careful balancing of principles and means, whichare expressed on the only four existing sets of drawings. The whole thing, I need hardly tell you, is a profound secret, and you may judge of mypresent state of mind when I tell you that one set of drawings has beenstolen. "

"From your house?"

"From my office, in Chancery Lane, this morning. The four sets of drawingswere distributed thus: Two were at the Admiralty Office, one being afinished set on thick paper, and the other a set of tracings therefrom;and the other two were at my own office, one being a penciled set, uncolored--a sort of finished draft, you understand--and the other a setof tracings similar to those at the Admiralty. It is this last set thathas gone. The two sets were kept together in one drawer in my room. Bothwere there at ten this morning; of that I am sure, for I had to go to thatvery drawer for something else when I first arrived. But at twelve thetracings had vanished. "

"You suspect somebody, probably?"

"I can not. It is a most extraordinary thing. Nobody has left the office(except myself, and then only to come to you) since ten this morning, andthere has been no visitor. And yet the drawings are gone!"

"But have you searched the place?"

"Of course I have! It was twelve o'clock when I first discovered my loss, and I have been turning the place upside down ever since--I and myassistants. Every drawer has been emptied, every desk and table turnedover, the very carpet and linoleum have been taken up, but there is not asign of the drawings. My men even insisted on turning all their pocketsinside out, although I never for a moment suspected either of them, and itwould take a pretty big pocket to hold the drawings, doubled up as smallas they might be. "

"You say your men--there are two, I understand--had neither left theoffice?"

"Neither; and they are both staying in now. Worsfold suggested that itwould be more satisfactory if they did not leave till something was donetoward clearing the mystery up, and, although, as I have said, I don'tsuspect either in the least, I acquiesced. "

"Just so. Now--I am assuming that you wish me to undertake the recovery ofthese drawings?"

The engineer nodded hastily. 

"Very good; I will go round to your office. But first perhaps you can tellme something about your assistants--something it might be awkward to tellme in their presence, you know. Mr. Worsfold, for instance?"

"He is my draughtsman--a very excellent and intelligent man, a very smartman, indeed, and, I feel sure, quite beyond suspicion. He has preparedmany important drawings for me (he has been with me nearly ten years now), and I have always found him trustworthy. But, of course, the temptation inthis case would be enormous. Still, I can not suspect Worsfold. Indeed, how can I suspect anybody in the circumstances?"

"The other, now?"

"His name's Ritter. He is merely a tracer, not a fully skilleddraughtsman. He is quite a decent young fellow, and I have had him twoyears. I don't consider him particularly smart, or he would have learned alittle more of his business by this time. But I don't see the least reasonto suspect him. As I said before, I can't reasonably suspect anybody. "

"Very well; we will get to Chancery Lane now, if you please, and you cantell me more as we go. "

"I have a cab waiting. What else can I tell you?"

"I understand the position to be succinctly this: The drawings were in theoffice when you arrived. Nobody came out, and nobody went in; and _yet_they vanished. Is that so?"

"That is so. When I say that absolutely nobody came in, of course I exceptthe postman. He brought a couple of letters during the morning. I meanthat absolutely nobody came past the barrier in the outer office--theusual thing, you know, like a counter, with a frame of ground glass overit. "

"I quite understand that. But I think you said that the drawings were in adrawer in your _own_ room--not the outer office, where the draughtsmenare, I presume?"

"That is the case. It is an inner room, or, rather, a room parallel withthe other, and communicating with it; just as your own room is, which wehave just left. "

"But, then, you say you never left your office, and yet the drawingsvanished--apparently by some unseen agency--while you were there in theroom?"

"Let me explain more clearly. " The cab was bowling smoothly along theStrand, and the engineer took out a pocket-book and pencil. "I fear, " heproceeded, "that I am a little confused in my explanation--I am naturallyrather agitated. As you will see presently, my offices consist of threerooms, two at one side of a corridor, and the other opposite--thus. " Hemade a rapid pencil sketch. 

[Illustration]

"In the outer office my men usually work. In the inner office I workmyself. These rooms communicate, as you see, by a door. Our ordinary wayin and out of the place is by the door of the outer office leading intothe corridor, and we first pass through the usual lifting flap in thebarrier. The door leading from the _inner_ office to the corridor isalways kept locked on the inside, and I don't suppose I unlock it once inthree months. It has not been unlocked all the morning. The drawer inwhich the missing drawings were kept, and in which I saw them at teno'clock this morning, is at the place marked D; it is a large chest ofshallow drawers in which the plans lie flat. "

"I quite understand. Then there is the private room opposite. What ofthat?"

"That is a sort of private sitting-room that I rarely use, except forbusiness interviews of a very private nature. When I said I never left myoffice, I did not mean that I never stirred out of the inner office. I wasabout in one room and another, both the outer and the inner offices, andonce I went into the private room for five minutes, but nobody came eitherin or out of any of the rooms at that time, for the door of the privateroom was wide open, and I was standing at the book-case (I had gone toconsult a book), just inside the door, with a full view of the doorsopposite. Indeed, Worsfold was at the door of the outer office most of theshort time. He came to ask me a question. "

"Well, " Hewitt replied, "it all comes to the simple first statement. Youknow that nobody left the place or arrived, except the postman, whocouldn't get near the drawings, and yet the drawings went. Is this youroffice?"

The cab had stopped before a large stone building. Mr. Dixon alighted andled the way to the first-floor. Hewitt took a casual glance round each ofthe three rooms. There was a sort of door in the frame of ground glassover the barrier to admit of speech with visitors. This door Hewitt pushedwide open, and left so. 

He and the engineer went into the inner office. "Would you like to askWorsfold and Ritter any questions?" Mr. Dixon inquired. 

"Presently. Those are their coats, I take it, hanging just to the right ofthe outer office door, over the umbrella stand?"

"Yes, those are all their things--coats, hats, stick, and umbrella. "

"And those coats were searched, you say?"

"Yes. "

"And this is the drawer--thoroughly searched, of course?"

"Oh, certainly; every drawer was taken out and turned over. "

"Well, of course I must assume you made no mistake in your hunt. Now tellme, did anybody know where these plans were, beyond yourself and your twomen?"

"As far as I can tell, not a soul. "

"You don't keep an office boy?"

"No. There would be nothing for him to do except to post a letter now andagain, which Ritter does quite well for. "

"As you are quite sure that the drawings were there at ten o'clock, perhaps the thing scarcely matters. But I may as well know if your menhave keys of the office?"

"Neither. I have patent locks to each door and I keep all the keys myself. If Worsfold or Ritter arrive before me in the morning they have to wait tobe let in; and I am always present myself when the rooms are cleaned. Ihave not neglected precautions, you see. "

"No. I suppose the object of the theft--assuming it is a theft--is prettyplain: the thief would offer the drawings for sale to some foreigngovernment?"

"Of course. They would probably command a great sum. I have been looking, as I need hardly tell you, to that invention to secure me a very largefortune, and I shall be ruined, indeed, if the design is taken abroad. Iam under the strictest engagements to secrecy with the Admiralty, and notonly should I lose all my labor, but I should lose all the confidencereposed in me at headquarters; should, in fact, be subject to penaltiesfor breach of contract, and my career stopped forever. I can not tell youwhat a serious business this is for me. If you can not help me, theconsequences will be terrible. Bad for the service of the country, too, ofcourse. "

"Of course. Now tell me this: It would, I take it, be necessary for thethief to _exhibit_ these drawings to anybody anxious to buy the secret--Imean, he couldn't describe the invention by word of mouth. "

"Oh, no, that would be impossible. The drawings are of the mostcomplicated description, and full of figures upon which the whole thingdepends. Indeed, one would have to be a skilled expert to properlyappreciate the design at all. Various principles of hydrostatics, chemistry, electricity, and pneumatics are most delicately manipulated andadjusted, and the smallest error or omission in any part would upset thewhole. No, the drawings are necessary to the thing, and they are gone. "

At this moment the door of the outer office was heard to open and somebodyentered. The door between the two offices was ajar, and Hewitt could seeright through to the glass door left open over the barrier and into thespace beyond. A well-dressed, dark, bushy-bearded man stood there carryinga hand-bag, which he placed on the ledge before him. Hewitt raised hishand to enjoin silence. The man spoke in a rather high-pitched voice andwith a slight accent. "Is Mr. Dixon now within?" he asked. 

"He is engaged, " answered one of the draughtsmen; "very particularlyengaged. I am afraid you won't be able to see him this afternoon. Can Igive him any message?"

"This is two--the second time I have come to-day. Not two hours ago Mr. Dixon himself tells me to call again. I have a very important--veryexcellent steam-packing to show him that is very cheap and the best of themarket. " The man tapped his bag. "I have just taken orders from thelargest railway companies. Can not I see him, for one second only? I willnot detain him. "

"Really, I'm sure you can't this afternoon; he isn't seeing anybody. Butif you'll leave your name----"

"My name is Hunter; but what the good of that? He ask me to call a littlelater, and I come, and now he is engaged. It is a very great pity. " Andthe man snatched up his bag and walking-stick, and stalked off, indignantly. 

Hewitt stood still, gazing through the small aperture in the doorway. 

"You'd scarcely expect a man with such a name as Hunter to talk with thataccent, would you?" he observed, musingly. "It isn't a French accent, nora German; but it seems foreign. You don't happen to know him, I suppose?"

"No, I don't. He called here about half-past twelve, just while we were inthe middle of our search and I was frantic over the loss of the drawings. I was in the outer office myself, and told him to call later. I have lotsof such agents here, anxious to sell all sorts of engineering appliances. But what will you do now? Shall you see my men?"

"I think, " said Hewitt, rising--"I think I'll get you to question themyourself. "

"Myself?"

"Yes, I have a reason. Will you trust me with the 'key' of the privateroom opposite? I will go over there for a little, while you talk to yourmen in this room. Bring them in here and shut the door; I can look afterthe office from across the corridor, you know. Ask them each to detail hisexact movements about the office this morning, and get them to recall eachvisitor who has been here from the beginning of the week. I'll let youknow the reason of this later. Come across to me in a few minutes. "

Hewitt took the key and passed through the outer office into the corridor. 

Ten minutes later Mr. Dixon, having questioned his draughtsmen, followedhim. He found Hewitt standing before the table in the private room, onwhich lay several drawings on tracing-paper. 

"See here, Mr. Dixon, " said Hewitt, "I think these are the drawings youare anxious about?"

The engineer sprang toward them with a cry of delight. "Why, yes, yes, " heexclaimed, turning them over, "every one of them! But where--how--theymust have been in the place after all, then? What a fool I have been!"

Hewitt shook his head. "I'm afraid you're not quite so lucky as you think, Mr. Dixon, " he said. "These drawings have most certainly been out of thehouse for a little while. Never mind how--we'll talk of that after. Thereis no time to lose. Tell me--how long would it take a good draughtsman tocopy them?"

"They couldn't possibly be traced over properly in less than two or twoand a half long days of very hard work, " Dixon replied with eagerness. 

"Ah! then it is as I feared. These tracings have been photographed, Mr. Dixon, and our task is one of every possible difficulty. If they had beencopied in the ordinary way, one might hope to get hold of the copy. Butphotography upsets everything. Copies can be multiplied with such amazingfacility that, once the thief gets a decent start, it is almost hopelessto checkmate him. The only chance is to get at the negatives before copiesare taken. I must act at once; and I fear, between ourselves, it may benecessary for me to step very distinctly over the line of the law in thematter. You see, to get at those negatives may involve something very likehouse-breaking. There must be no delay, no waiting for legal procedure, orthe mischief is done. Indeed, I very much question whether you have anylegal remedy, strictly speaking. "

"Mr. Hewitt, I implore you, do what you can. I need not say that all Ihave is at your disposal. I will guarantee to hold you harmless foranything that may happen. But do, I entreat you, do everything possible. Think of what the consequences may be!"

"Well, yes, so I do, " Hewitt remarked, with a smile. "The consequences tome, if I were charged with house-breaking, might be something that noamount of guarantee could mitigate. However, I will do what I can, if onlyfrom patriotic motives. Now, I must see your tracer, Ritter. He is thetraitor in the camp. "

"Ritter? But how?"

"Never mind that now. You are upset and agitated, and had better not knowmore than is necessary for a little while, in case you say or do somethingunguarded. With Ritter I must take a deep course; what I don't know I mustappear to know, and that will seem more likely to him if I disclaimacquaintance with what I do know. But first put these tracings safely awayout of sight. "

Dixon slipped them behind his book-case. 

"Now, " Hewitt pursued, "call Mr. Worsfold and give him something to dothat will keep him in the inner office across the way, and tell him tosend Ritter here. "

Mr. Dixon called his chief draughtsman and requested him to put in orderthe drawings in the drawers of the inner room that had been disarranged bythe search, and to send Ritter, as Hewitt had suggested. 

Ritter walked into the private room with an air of respectful attention. He was a puffy-faced, unhealthy-looking young man, with very small eyesand a loose, mobile mouth. 

"Sit down, Mr. Ritter, " Hewitt said, in a stern voice. "Your recenttransactions with your friend Mr. Hunter are well known both to Mr. Dixonand myself. "

Ritter, who had at first leaned easily back in his chair, started forwardat this, and paled. 

"You are surprised, I observe; but you should be more careful in yourmovements out of doors if you do not wish your acquaintances to be known. Mr. Hunter, I believe, has the drawings which Mr. Dixon has lost, and, ifso, I am certain that you have given them to him. That, you know, istheft, for which the law provides a severe penalty. "

Ritter broke down completely and turned appealingly to Mr. Dixon. 

"Oh, sir, " he pleaded, "it isn't so bad, I assure you. I was tempted, Iconfess, and hid the drawings; but they are still in the office, and I cangive them to you--really, I can. "

"Indeed?" Hewitt went on. "Then, in that case, perhaps you'd better getthem at once. Just go and fetch them in; we won't trouble to observe yourhiding-place. I'll only keep this door open, to be sure you don't loseyour way, you know--down the stairs, for instance. "

The wretched Ritter, with hanging head, slunk into the office opposite. Presently he reappeared, looking, if possible, ghastlier than before. Helooked irresolutely down the corridor, as if meditating a run for it, butHewitt stepped toward him and motioned him back to the private room. 

"You mustn't try any more of that sort of humbug, " Hewitt said withincreased severity. "The drawings are gone, and you have stolen them; youknow that well enough. Now attend to me. If you received your deserts, Mr. Dixon would send for a policeman this moment, and have you hauled off tothe jail that is your proper place. But, unfortunately, your accomplice, who calls himself Hunter--but who has other names besides that--as Ihappen to know--has the drawings, and it is absolutely necessary thatthese should be recovered. I am afraid that it will be necessary, therefore, to come to some arrangement with this scoundrel--to square him, in fact. Now, just take that pen and paper, and write to your confederateas I dictate. You know the alternative if you cause any difficulty. "

Ritter reached tremblingly for the pen. 

"Address him in your usual way, " Hewitt proceeded. "Say this: 'There hasbeen an alteration in the plans. ' Have you got that? 'There has been analteration in the plans. I shall be alone here at six o'clock. Pleasecome, without fail. ' Have you got it? Very well; sign it, and address theenvelope. He must come here, and then we may arrange matters. In themeantime, you will remain in the inner office opposite. "

The note was written, and Martin Hewitt, without glancing at the address, thrust it into his pocket. When Ritter was safely in the inner office, however, he drew it out and read the address. "I see, " he observed, "heuses the same name, Hunter; 27 Little Carton Street, Westminster, is theaddress, and there I shall go at once with the note. If the man comeshere, I think you had better lock him in with Ritter, and send for apoliceman--it may at least frighten him. My object is, of course, to getthe man away, and then, if possible, to invade his house, in some way oranother, and steal or smash his negatives if they are there and to befound. Stay here, in any case, till I return. And don't forget to lock upthose tracings. "

 * * * * *

It was about six o'clock when Hewitt returned, alone, but with a smilingface that told of good fortune at first sight. 

"First, Mr. Dixon, " he said, as he dropped into an easy chair in theprivate room, "let me ease your mind by the information that I have beenmost extraordinarily lucky; in fact, I think you have no further cause foranxiety. Here are the negatives. They were not all quite dry when I--well, what?--stole them, I suppose I must say; so that they have stuck togethera bit, and probably the films are damaged. But you don't mind that, Isuppose?"

He laid a small parcel, wrapped in a newspaper, on the table. The engineerhastily tore away the paper and took up five or six glass photographicnegatives, of a half-plate size, which were damp, and stuck together bythe gelatine films in couples. He held them, one after another, up to thelight of the window, and glanced through them. Then, with a great sigh ofrelief, he placed them on the hearth and pounded them to dust andfragments with the poker. 

For a few seconds neither spoke. Then Dixon, flinging himself into achair, said:

"Mr. Hewitt, I can't express my obligation to you. What would havehappened if you had failed, I prefer not to think of. But what shall we dowith Ritter now? The other man hasn't been here yet, by the by. "

"No; the fact is I didn't deliver the letter. The worthy gentleman savedme a world of trouble by taking himself out of the way. " Hewitt laughed. "I'm afraid he has rather got himself into a mess by trying two kinds oftheft at once, and you may not be sorry to hear that his attempt on yourtorpedo plans is likely to bring him a dose of penal servitude forsomething else. I'll tell you what has happened. 

"Little Carton Street, Westminster, I found to be a seedy sort ofplace--one of those old streets that have seen much better days. A goodmany people seem to live in each house--they are fairly large houses, bythe way--and there is quite a company of bell-handles on each doorpost, all down the side like organ-stops. A barber had possession of the groundfloor front of No. 27 for trade purposes, so to him I went. 'Can you tellme, ' I said, 'where in this house I can find Mr. Hunter?' He lookeddoubtful, so I went on: 'His friend will do, you know--I can't think ofhis name; foreign gentleman, dark, with a bushy beard. '

"The barber understood at once. 'Oh, that's Mirsky, I expect, ' he said. 'Now, I come to think of it, he has had letters addressed to Hunter onceor twice; I've took 'em in. Top floor back. '

"This was good so far. I had got at 'Mr. Hunter's' other alias. So, by wayof possessing him with the idea that I knew all about him, I determined toask for him as Mirsky before handing over the letter addressed to him asHunter. A little bluff of that sort is invaluable at the right time. Atthe top floor back I stopped at the door and tried to open it at once, butit was locked. I could hear somebody scuttling about within, as thoughcarrying things about, and I knocked again. In a little while the dooropened about a foot, and there stood Mr. Hunter--or Mirsky, as youlike--the man who, in the character of a traveler in steam-packing, camehere twice to-day. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and cuddled somethingunder his arm, hastily covered with a spotted pocket-handkerchief. 

"'I have called to see M. Mirsky, " I said, 'with a confidentialletter----'

"'Oh, yas, yas, ' he answered hastily; 'I know--I know. Excuse me oneminute. ' And he rushed off down-stairs with his parcel. 

"Here was a noble chance. For a moment I thought of following him, in casethere might be something interesting in the parcel. But I had to decide ina moment, and I decided on trying the room. I slipped inside the door, and, finding the key on the inside, locked it. It was a confused sort ofroom, with a little iron bedstead in one corner and a sort of roughboarded inclosure in another. This I rightly conjectured to be thephotographic dark-room, and made for it at once. 

"There was plenty of light within when the door was left open, and I madeat once for the drying-rack that was fastened over the sink. There were anumber of negatives in it, and I began hastily examining them one afteranother. In the middle of this our friend Mirsky returned and tried thedoor. He rattled violently at the handle and pushed. Then he called. 

"At this moment I had come upon the first of the negatives you have justsmashed. The fixing and washing had evidently only lately been completed, and the negative was drying on the rack. I seized it, of course, and theothers which stood by it. 

"'Who are you, there, inside?' Mirsky shouted indignantly from thelanding. 'Why for you go in my room like that? Open this door at once, orI call the police!'

"I took no notice. I had got the full number of negatives, one for eachdrawing, but I was not by any means sure that he had not taken an extraset; so I went on hunting down the rack. There were no more, so I set towork to turn out all the undeveloped plates. It was quite possible, yousee, that the other set, if it existed, had not yet been developed. 

"Mirsky changed his tune. After a little more banging and shouting I couldhear him kneel down and try the key-hole. I had left the key there, sothat he could see nothing. But he began talking softly and rapidly throughthe hole in a foreign language. I did not know it in the least, but Ibelieve it was Russian. What had led him to believe I understood Russian Icould not at the time imagine, though I have a notion now. I went onruining his stock of plates. I found several boxes, apparently of newplates, but, as there was no means of telling whether they were reallyunused or Avere merely undeveloped, but with the chemical impress of yourdrawings on them, I dragged every one ruthlessly from its hiding-place andlaid it out in the full glare of the sunlight--destroying it thereby, ofcourse, whether it was unused or not. 

"Mirsky left off talking, and I heard him quietly sneaking off. Perhapshis conscience was not sufficiently clear to warrant an appeal to thepolice, but it seemed to me rather probable at the time that that was whathe was going for. So I hurried on with my work. I found three darkslides--the parts that carried the plates in the back of the camera, youknow--one of them fixed in the camera itself. These I opened, and exposedthe plates to ruination as before. I suppose nobody ever did so muchdevastation in a photographic studio in ten minutes as I managed. 

"I had spoiled every plate I could find, and had the developed negativessafely in my pocket, when I happened to glance at a porcelain washing-wellunder the sink. There was one negative in that, and I took it up. It was_not_ a negative of a drawing of yours, but of a Russian twenty-rublenote!"

This _was_ a discovery. The only possible reason any man could have forphotographing a bank-note was the manufacture of an etched plate for theproduction of forged copies. I was almost as pleased as I had been at thediscovery of _your_ negatives. He might bring the police now as soon as heliked; I could turn the tables on him completely. I began to hunt aboutfor anything else relating to this negative. 

"I found an inking-roller, some old pieces of blanket (used in printingfrom plates), and in a corner on the floor, heaped over with newspapersand rubbish, a small copying-press. There was also a dish of acid, but notan etched plate or a printed note to be seen. I was looking at the press, with the negative in one hand and the inking-roller in the other, when Ibecame conscious of a shadow across the window. I looked up quickly, andthere was Mirsky hanging over from some ledge or projection to the side ofthe window, and staring straight at me, with a look of unmistakable terrorand apprehension. 

"The face vanished immediately. I had to move a table to get at thewindow, and by the time I had opened it there was no sign or sound of therightful tenant of the room. I had no doubt now of his reason for carryinga parcel down-stairs. He probably mistook me for another visitor he wasexpecting, and, knowing he must take this visitor into his room, threw thepapers and rubbish over the press, and put up his plates and papers in abundle and secreted them somewhere down-stairs, lest his occupation shouldbe observed. 

"Plainly, my duty now was to communicate with the police. So, by the helpof my friend the barber down-stairs, a messenger was found and a note sentover to Scotland Yard. I awaited, of course, for the arrival of thepolice, and occupied the interval in another look round--finding nothingimportant, however. When the official detective arrived, he recognized atonce the importance of the case. A large number of forged Russian noteshave been put into circulation on the Continent lately, it seems, and itwas suspected that they came from London. The Russian Government have beensending urgent messages to the police here on the subject. 

"Of course I said nothing about your business; but, while I was talkingwith the Scotland Yard man, a letter was left by a messenger, addressed toMirsky. The letter will be examined, of course, by the proper authorities, but I was not a little interested to perceive that the envelope bore theRussian imperial arms above the words 'Russian Embassy. ' Now, why shouldMirsky communicate with the Russian Embassy? Certainly not to let theofficials know that he was carrying on a very extensive and lucrativebusiness in the manufacture of spurious Russian notes. I think it israther more than possible that he wrote--probably before he actually gotyour drawings--to say that he could sell information of the highestimportance, and that this letter was a reply. Further, I think it quitepossible that, when I asked for him by his Russian name and spoke of 'aconfidential letter, ' he at once concluded that _I_ had come from theembassy in answer to his letter. That would account for his addressing mein Russian through the key-hole; and, of course, an official from theRussian Embassy would be the very last person in the world whom he wouldlike to observe any indications of his little etching experiments. But, anyhow, be that as it may, " Hewitt concluded, "your drawings are safe now, and if once Mirsky is caught, and I think it likely, for a man in hisshirt-sleeves, with scarcely any start, and, perhaps, no money about him, hasn't a great chance to get away--if he is caught, I say, he willprobably get something handsome at St. Petersburg in the way ofimprisonment, or Siberia, or what not; so that you will be amply avenged. "

"Yes, but I don't at all understand this business of the drawings evennow. How in the world were they taken out of the place, and how in theworld did you find it out?"

"Nothing could be simpler; and yet the plan was rather ingenious. I'lltell you exactly how the thing revealed itself to me. From your originaldescription of the case many people would consider that an impossibilityhad been performed. Nobody had gone out and nobody had come in, and yetthe drawings had been taken away. But an impossibility is animpossibility, after all, and as drawings don't run away of themselves, plainly somebody had taken them, unaccountable as it might seem. Now, asthey were in your inner office, the only people who could have got at thembesides yourself were your assistants, so that it was pretty clear thatone of them, at least, had something to do with the business. You told methat Worsfold was an excellent and intelligent draughtsman. Well, if sucha man as that meditated treachery, he would probably be able to carry awaythe design in his head--at any rate, a little at a time--and would beunder no necessity to run the risk of stealing a set of the drawings. ButRitter, you remarked, was an inferior sort of man. 'Not particularlysmart, ' I think, were your words--only a mechanical sort of tracer. _He_would be unlikely to be able to carry in his head the complicated detailsof such designs as yours, and, being in a subordinate position, andcontinually overlooked, he would find it impossible to make copies of theplans in the office. So that, to begin with, I thought I saw the mostprobable path to start on. 

"When I looked round the rooms, I pushed open the glass door of thebarrier and left the door to the inner office ajar, in order to be able tosee any thing that _might_ happen in any part of the place, withoutactually expecting any definite development. While we were talking, as ithappened, our friend Mirsky (or Hunter--as you please) came into the outeroffice, and my attention was instantly called to him by the first thing hedid. Did you notice anything peculiar yourself?"

"No, really, I can't say I did. He seemed to behave much as any traveleror agent might. "

"Well, what I noticed was the fact that as soon as he entered the place heput his walking-stick into the umbrella-stand over there by the door, close by where he stood, a most unusual thing for a casual caller to do, before even knowing whether you were in. This made me watch him closely. Iperceived with increased interest that the stick was exactly of the samekind and pattern as one already standing there, also a curious thing. Ikept my eyes carefully on those sticks, and was all the more interestedand edified to see, when he left, that he took the _other_ stick--not theone he came with--from the stand, and carried it away, leaving his ownbehind. I might have followed him, but I decided that more could belearned by staying, as, in fact, proved to be the case. This, by the by, is the stick he carried away with him. I took the liberty of fetching itback from Westminster, because I conceive it to be Ritier's property. "

Hewitt produced the stick. It was an ordinary, thick Malacca cane, with abuck-horn handle and a silver band. Hewitt bent it across his knee andlaid it on the table. 

"Yes, " Dixon answered, "that is Ritter's stick. I think I have often seenit in the stand. But what in the world----"

"One moment; I'll just fetch the stick Mirsky left behind. " And Hewittstepped across the corridor. 

He returned with another stick, apparently an exact fac-simile of theother, and placed it by the side of the other. 

"When your assistants went into the inner room, I carried this stick offfor a minute or two. I knew it was not Worsfold's, because there was anumbrella there with his initial on the handle. Look at this. "

Martin Hewitt gave the handle a twist and rapidly unscrewed it from thetop. Then it was seen that the stick was a mere tube of very thin metal, painted to appear like a Malacca cane. 

"It was plain at once that this was no Malacca cane--it wouldn't bend. Inside it I found your tracings, rolled up tightly. You can get amarvelous quantity of thin tracing-paper into a small compass by tightrolling. "

"And this--this was the way they were brought back!" the engineerexclaimed. "I see that clearly. But how did they get away? That's asmysterious as ever. "

"Not a bit of it! See here. Mirsky gets hold of Ritter, and they agree toget your drawings and photograph them. Ritter is to let his confederatehave the drawings, and Mirsky is to bring them back as soon as possible, so that they sha'n't be missed for a moment. Ritter habitually carriesthis Malacca cane, and the cunning of Mirsky at once suggests that thistube should be made in outward fac-simile. This morning Mirsky keeps theactual stick, and Ritter comes to the office with the tube. He seizes thefirst opportunity--probably when you were in this private room, andWorsfold was talking to you from the corridor--to get at the tracings, roll them up tightly, and put them in the tube, putting the tube back intothe umbrella-stand. At half-past twelve, or whenever it was, Mirsky turnsup for the first time with the actual stick and exchanges them, just as heafterward did when he brought the drawings back. "

"Yes, but Mirsky came half an hour after they were--Oh, yes, I see. What afool I was! I was forgetting. Of course, when I first missed the tracings, they were in this walking-stick, safe enough, and I was tearing my hairout within arm's reach of them!"

"Precisely. And Mirsky took them away before your very eyes. I expectRitter was in a rare funk when he found that the drawings were missed. Hecalculated, no doubt, on your not wanting them for the hour or two theywould be out of the office. "

"How lucky that it struck me to jot a pencil-note on one of them! I mighteasily have made my note somewhere else, and then I should never haveknown that they had been away. "

"Yes, they didn't give you any too much time to miss them. Well, I thinkthe rest pretty clear. I brought the tracings in here, screwed up the shamstick and put it back. You identified the tracings and found none missing, and then my course was pretty clear, though it looked difficult. I knewyou would be very naturally indignant with Ritter, so, as I wanted tomanage him myself, I told you nothing of what he had actually done, forfear that, in your agitated state, you might burst out with something thatwould spoil my game. To Ritter I pretended to know nothing of the returnof the drawings or _how_ they had been stolen--the only things I did knowwith certainty. But I _did_ pretend to know all about Mirsky--orHunter--when, as a matter of fact, I knew nothing at all, except that heprobably went under more than one name. That put Ritter into my handscompletely. When he found the game was up, he began with a lyingconfession. Believing that the tracings were still in the stick and thatwe knew nothing of their return, he said that they had not been away, andthat he would fetch them--as I had expected he would. I let him go forthem alone, and, when he returned, utterly broken up by the discovery thatthey were not there, I had him altogether at my mercy. You see, if he hadknown that the drawings were all the time behind your book-case, he mighthave brazened it out, sworn that the drawings had been there all the time, and we could have done nothing with him. We couldn't have sufficientlyfrightened him by a threat of prosecution for theft, because there thethings were in your possession, to his knowledge. 

"As it was he answered the helm capitally: gave us Mirsky's address on theenvelope, and wrote the letter that was to have got him out of the waywhile I committed burglary, if that disgraceful expedient had not beenrendered unnecessary. On the whole, the case has gone very well. "

"It has gone marvelously well, thanks to yourself. But what shall I dowith Ritter?"

"Here's his stick--knock him down-stairs with it, if you like. I shouldkeep the tube, if I were you, as a memento. I don't suppose therespectable Mirsky will ever call to ask for it. But I should certainlykick Ritter out of doors--or out of window, if you like--without delay. "

Mirsky was caught, and, after two remands at the police-court, wasextradited on the charge of forging Russian notes. It came out that he hadwritten to the embassy, as Hewitt had surmised, stating that he hadcertain valuable information to offer, and the letter which Hewitt hadseen delivered was an acknowledgment, and a request for more definiteparticulars. This was what gave rise to the impression that Mirsky hadhimself informed the Russian authorities of his forgeries. His real intentwas very different, but was never guessed. 

 * * * * *

"I wonder, " Hewitt has once or twice observed, "whether, after all, itwould not have paid the Russian authorities better on the whole if I hadnever investigated Mirsky's little note factory. The Dixon torpedo wasworth a good many twenty-ruble notes. "

V. 

THE QUINTON JEWEL AFFAIR. 

It was comparatively rarely that Hewitt came into contact with members ofthe regular criminal class--those, I mean, who are thieves, of one sort oranother, by exclusive profession. Still, nobody could have been betterprepared than Hewitt for encountering this class when it became necessary. By some means, which I never quite understood, he managed to keep abreastof the very latest fashions in the ever-changing slang dialect of thefraternity, and he was a perfect master of the more modern and debasedform of Romany. So much so that frequently a gypsy who began (as theyalways do) by pretending that he understood nothing, and never heard of agypsy language, ended by confessing that Hewitt could _rokker_ better thanmost Romany _chals_ themselves. 

By this acquaintance with their habits and talk Hewitt was sometimes ableto render efficient service in cases of especial importance. In theQuinton jewel affair Hewitt came into contact with a very accomplishedthief. 

The case will probably be very well remembered. Sir Valentine Quinton, before he married, had been as poor as only a man of rank with an oldcountry establishment to keep up can be. His marriage, however, with thedaughter of a wealthy financier had changed all that, and now the Quintonestablishment was carried on on as lavish a scale as might be; and, indeed, the extravagant habits of Lady Quinton herself rendered it anextremely lucky thing that she had brought a fortune with her. 

Among other things her jewels made quite a collection, and chief amongthem was the great ruby, one of the very few that were sent to thiscountry to be sold (at an average price of somewhere about twenty thousandpounds apiece, I believe) by the Burmese king before the annexation of hiscountry. Let but a ruby be of a great size and color, and no equally finediamond can approach its value. Well, this great ruby (which was set in apendant, by the by), together with a necklace, brooches, bracelets, ear-rings--indeed, the greater part of Lady Quinton's collection--werestolen. The robbery was effected at the usual time and in the usual way incases of carefully planned jewelry robberies. The time was earlyevening--dinner-time, in fact--and an entrance had been made by the windowto Lady Quinton's dressing-room, the door screwed up on the inside, andwires artfully stretched about the grounds below to overset anybody whomight observe and pursue the thieves. 

On an investigation by London detectives, however, a feature ofsingularity was brought to light. There had plainly been only one thief atwork at Radcot Hall, and no other had been inside the grounds. Alone hehad planted the wires, opened the window, screwed the door, and picked thelock of the safe. Clearly this was a thief of the most accomplisheddescription. 

Some few days passed, and, although the police had made various arrests, they appeared to be all mistakes, and the suspected persons were releasedone after another. I was talking of the robbery with Hewitt at lunch, andasked him if he had received any commission to hunt for the missingjewels. 

"No, " Hewitt replied, "I haven't been commissioned. They are offering animmense reward however--a very pleasant sum, indeed. I have had a shortnote from Radcot Hall informing me of the amount, and that's all. Probablythey fancy that I may take the case up as a speculation, but that is agreat mistake. I'm not a beginner, and I must be commissioned in a regularmanner, hit or miss, if I am to deal with the case. I've quite enoughcommissions going now, and no time to waste hunting for a problematicalreward. "

But we were nearer a clue to the Quinton jewels than we then supposed. 

We talked of other things, and presently rose and left the restaurant, strolling quietly toward home. Some little distance from the Strand, andnear our own door, we passed an excited Irishman--without doubt anIrishman by appearance and talk--who was pouring a torrent of angrycomplaints in the ears of a policeman. The policeman obviously thoughtlittle of the man's grievances, and with an amused smile appeared to beadvising him to go home quietly and think no more about it. We passed onand mounted our stairs. Something interesting in our conversation made mestop for a little while at Hewitt's office door on my way up, and, while Istood there, the Irishman we had seen in the street mounted the stairs. Hewas a poorly dressed but sturdy-looking fellow, apparently a laborer, in abadly-worn best suit of clothes. His agitation still held him, and withouta pause he immediately burst out:

"Which of ye jintlemen will be Misther Hewitt, sor?"

"This is Mr. Hewitt, " I said. "Do you want him?"

"It's protecshin I want, sor--protecshin! I spake to the polis, an' theylaff at me, begob. Foive days have I lived in London, an' 'tis nothin' butbattle, murdher, an' suddhen death for me here all day an' ivery day! An'the polis say I'm dhrunk!"

He gesticulated wildly, and to me it seemed just possible that the policemight be right. 

"They say I'm drunk, sor, " he continued, "but, begob, I b'lieve they thinkI'm mad. An' me being thracked an' folleyed an' dogged an' waylaid an'poisoned an' blandandhered an' kidnapped an' murdhered, an' for why I donot know!"

"And who's doing all this?'

"Sthrangers, sor--sthrangers. 'Tis a sthranger here I am mesilf, an' fwythey do it bates me, onless I do be so like the Prince av Wales or othercrowned head they thry to slaughter me. They're layin' for me in thesthreet now, I misdoubt not, and fwat they may thry next I can tell nomore than the Lord Mayor. An' the polis won't listen to me!"

This, I thought, must be one of the very common cases of mentalhallucination which one hears of every day--the belief of the suffererthat he is surrounded by enemies and followed by spies. It is probably themost usual delusion of the harmless lunatic. 

"But what have these people done?" Hewitt asked, looking ratherinterested, although amused. "What actual assaults have they committed, and when? And who told you to come here?"

"Who towld me, is ut? Who but the payler outside--in the street below! Iexplained to 'um, an' sez he: 'Ah, you go an' take a slape, ' sez he; 'yougo an' take a good slape, an' they'll be all gone whin ye wake up. ' 'Butthey'll murdher me, ' sez I. 'Oh, no!' sez he, smilin' behind av his uglyface. 'Oh, no, they won't; you take ut aisy, me frind, an' go home!' 'Takeit aisy, is ut, an' go home!' sez I; 'why, that's just where they've beenlast, a-ruinationin' an' a-turnin' av the place upside down, an' me strookon the head onsensible a mile away. Take ut aisy, is ut, ye say, whin allthe demons in this unholy place is jumpin' on me every minut in placespromiscuous till I can't tell where to turn, descendin' an' vanishin'marvelious an' onaccountable? Take ut aisy, is ut?' sez I. 'Well, mefrind, ' sez he, 'I can't help ye; that's the marvelious an' onaccountabledepartmint up the stairs forninst ye. Misther Hewitt ut is, ' sez he, 'thatattinds to the onaccountable departmint, him as wint by a minut ago. Yougo an' bother him. ' That's how I was towld, sor. "

Hewitt smiled. 

"Very good, " he said; "and now what are these extraordinary troubles ofyours? Don't declaim, " he added, as the Irishman raised his hand andopened his mouth, preparatory to another torrent of complaint; "just sayin ten words, if you can, what they've done to you. "

"I will, sor. Wan day had I been in London, sor--wan day only, an' a lowscutt thried to poison me dhrink; next day some udther thief av sin shovedme off av a railway platform undher a train, malicious and purposeful;glory be, he didn't kill me! but the very docther that felt me bonesthried to pick me pockut, I du b'lieve. Sunday night I was grabbedoutrageous in a darrk turnin', rowled on the groun', half strangled, an'me pockuts nigh ripped out av me trousies. An' this very blessed mornin'av light I was strook onsensible an' left a livin' corpse, an' my lodgin'spenethrated an' all the thruck mishandled an' bruk up behind me back. Isthat a panjandhery for the polis to laff at, sor?"

Had Hewitt not been there I think I should have done my best to quiet thepoor fellow with a few soothing words and to persuade him to go home tohis friends. His excited and rather confused manner, his fantastic storyof a sort of general conspiracy to kill him, and the absurd reference tothe doctor who tried to pick his pocket seemed to me plainly to confirm myfirst impression that he was insane. But Hewitt appeared strangelyinterested. 

"Did they steal anything?" he asked. 

"Divil a shtick but me door-key, an' that they tuk home an' lift in thedoor. "

Hewitt opened his office door. 

"Come in, " he said, "and tell me all about this. You come, too, Brett. "

The Irishman and I followed him into the inner office, where, shutting thedoor, Hewitt suddenly turned on the Irishman and exclaimed sharply: "_Thenyou've still got it_?"

He looked keenly in the man's eyes, but the only expression there was oneof surprise. 

"Got ut?" said the Irishman. "Got fwhat, sor? Is ut you're thinkin' I'vegot the horrors, as well as the polis?"

Hewitt's gaze relaxed. "Sit down, sit down!" he said. "You've still gotyour watch and money, I suppose, since you weren't robbed?"

"Oh, that? Glory be, I have ut still! though for how long--or me own head, for that matter--in this state of besiegement, I can not say. "

"Now, " said Hewitt, "I want a full, true, and particular account ofyourself and your doings for the last week. First, your name?"

"Leamy's my name, sor--Michael Leamy. "

"Lately from Ireland?"

"Over from Dublin this last blessed Wednesday, and a crooil badpoundherin' tit was in the boat, too--shpakin'av that same. "

"Looking for work?"

"That is my purshuit at prisint, sor. "

"Did anything noticeable happen before these troubles of yoursbegan--anything here in London or on the journey?"

"Sure, " the Irishman smiled, "part av the way I thraveled first-class byfavor av the gyard, an' I got a small job before I lift the train. "

"How was that? Why did you travel first-class part of the way?"

"There was a station fwhere we shtopped afther a long run, an' I got downto take the cramp out av me joints, an' take a taste av dhrink. Iover-shtayed somehow, an', whin I got to the train, begob, it was on themove. There was a first-class carr'ge door opin right forninst me, an'into that the gyard crams me holus-bolus. There was a juce of a foinejintleman sittin' there, an' he stares at me umbrageous, but I was notdishcommoded, bein' onbashful by natur'. We thravelled along a heap avmiles more, till we came near London. Afther we had shtopped at a stationwhere they tuk tickets we wint ahead again, an' prisintly, as we ripsthrough some udther station, up jumps the jintleman opposite, swearin'hard undher his tongue, an' looks out at the windy. 'I thought this trainshtopped here, ' sez he. "

"Chalk Farm, " observed Hewitt, with a nod. 

"The name I do not know, sor, but that's fwhat he said. Then he looks atme onaisy for a little, an' at last he sez: 'Wud ye loike a small job, megood man, well paid?'

"'Faith, ' sez I, ''tis that will suit me well. '

"'Then, see here, ' sez he, 'I should have got out at that station, havin'particular business; havin' missed, I must sen' a telegrammer from Euston. Now, here's a bag, ' sez he, 'a bag full of imporrtant papers for mysolicitor--imporrtant to me, ye ondershtand, not worth the shine av abrass farden to a sowl else--an' I want 'em tuk on to him. Take you thisbag, ' he sez, 'an' go you straight out wid it at Euston an' get a cab. Ishall stay in the station a bit to see to the telegrammer. Dhrive out avthe station, across the road outside, an' wait there five minuts by theclock. Ye ondershtand? Wait five minuts, an, maybe I'll come an' join ye. If I don't 'twill be bekase I'm detained onexpected, an' then ye'll dhriveto my solicitor straight. Here's his address, if ye can read writin', ' an'he put ut on a piece av paper. He gave me half-a-crown for the cab, an' Ituk his bag. "

"One moment--have you the paper with the address now?"

"I have not, sor. I missed ut afther the blayguards overset me yesterday;but the solicitor's name was Hollams, an' a liberal jintleman wid hismoney he was, too, by that same token. "

"What was his address?"

"'Twas in Chelsea, and 'twas Gold or Golden something, which I know by thegood token av fwhat he gave me; but the number I misremember. "

Hewitt turned to his directory. "Gold Street is the place, probably, " hesaid, "and it seems to be a street chiefly of private houses. You would beable to point out the house if you were taken there, I suppose?"

"I should that, sor; indade, I was thinkin' av goin' there an' tellin'Misther Hollams all my throubles, him havin' been so kind. "

"Now tell me exactly what instructions the man in the train gave you, andwhat happened?"

"He sez: 'You ask for Misther Hollams, an' see nobody else. Tell him ye'vebrought the sparks from Misther W. '"

I fancied I could see a sudden twinkle in Hewitt's eye, but he made noother sign, and the Irishman proceeded. 

"'Sparks?' sez I. 'Yes, sparks, ' sez he. 'Misther Hollams will know; 'tisour jokin' word for 'em; sometimes papers is sparks when they set alawsuit ablaze, ' and he laffed. 'But be sure ye say the _sparks fromMisther W. _, ' he sez again, 'bekase then he'll know ye're jinuine an'he'll pay ye han'some. Say Misther W. Sez you're to have your reg'lars, ifye like. D'ye mind that?'

"'Ay, ' sez I, 'that I'm to have my reg'lars. '

"Well, sor, I tuk the bag and wint out of the station, tuk the cab, an'did all as he towld me. I waited the foive minuts, but he niver came, sooff I druv to Misther Hollams, and he threated me han'some, sor. "

"Yes, but tell me exactly all he did. "

"'Misther Hollams, sor?' sez I. 'Who are ye?' sez he. 'Mick Leamy, sor, 'sez I, 'from Misther W. Wid the sparks. ' 'Oh, ' sez he, 'thin come in. ' Iwint in. 'They're in here, are they?' sez he, takin' the bag. 'They are, sor, ' sez I, 'an' Misther W. Sez I'm to have me reg'lars. ' 'You shall, 'sez he. 'What shall we say, now--afinnip?' 'Fwhat's that, sor?' sez I. 'Oh, ' sez he, 'I s'pose ye're a new hand; five quid--ondershtand that?'"

"Begob, I did ondershtand it, an' moighty plazed I was to have come to aplace where they pay five-pun' notes for carryin' bags. So whin he askedme was I new to London an' shud I kape in the same line av business, Itowld him I shud for certin, or any thin' else payin' like it. 'Right, 'sez he; 'let me know whin ye've got any thin'--ye'll find me all right. 'An' he winked frindly. 'Faith, that I know I shall, sor, ' sez I, wid themoney safe in me pockut; an' I winked him back, conjanial. 'I've a smartfamily about me, ' sez he, 'an' I treat 'em all fair an' liberal. ' An', saints, I thought it likely his family 'ud have all they wanted, seein' hewas so free-handed wid a stranger. Thin he asked me where I was a livin'in London, and, when I towld him nowhere, he towld me av a room in MussonStreet, here by Drury Lane, that was to let, in a house his fam'ly knewvery well, an' I wint straight there an' tuk ut, an' there I do be stayin'still, sor. "

I hadn't understood at first why Hewitt took so much interest in theIrishman's narrative, but the latter part of it opened my eyes a little. It seemed likely that Leamy had, in his innocence, been made a conveyer ofstolen property. I knew enough of thieves' slang to know that "sparks"meant diamonds or other jewels; that "regulars" was the term used for apayment made to a brother thief who gave assistance in some small way, such as carrying the booty; and that the "family" was the time-honoredexpression for a gang of thieves. 

"This was all on Wednesday, I understand, " said Hewitt. "Now tell me whathappened on Thursday--the poisoning, or drugging, you know?"

"Well, sor, I was walking out, an' toward the evenin' I lost mesilf. Upcomes a man, seemin'ly a sthranger, and shmacks me on the showldher. 'Why, Mick!' sez he; 'it's Mick Leamy, I du b'lieve!'

"'I am that, ' sez I, 'but you I do not know. '

"'Not know me?' sez he. 'Why, I wint to school wid ye. ' An' wid that hehauls me off to a bar, blarneyin' and minowdherin', an' orders dhrinks. 

"Can ye rache me a poipe-loight?' sez he, an' I turned to get ut, but, lookin' back suddent, there was that onblushin' thief av the warl' tippin'a paperful of phowder stuff into me glass. "

"What did you do?" Hewitt asked. 

"I knocked the dhirty face av him, sor, an' can ye blame me? A mane scutt, thryin' for to poison a well-manin' sthranger. I knocked the face av him, an' got away home. "

"Now the next misfortune?"

"Faith, that was av a sort likely to turn out the last of all misfortunes. I wint that day to the Crystial Palace, bein' dishposed for a littlesphort, seein' as I was new to London. Comin' home at night, there was ajuce av a crowd on the station platform, consekins of a late thrain. Sthandin' by the edge av the platform at the fore end, just as thrain camein, some onvisible murdherer gives me a stupenjus drive in the back, andover I wint on the line, mid-betwixt the rails. The engine came up an'wint half over me widout givin' me a scratch, bekase av my centraleoussituation, an' then the porther-men pulled me out, nigh sick wid fright, sor, as ye may guess. A jintleman in the crowd sings out: 'I'm a medicalman!' an' they tuk me in the waitin'-room, an' he investigated me, havin'turned everybody else out av the room. There wuz no bones bruk, glory be!and the docthor-man he was tellin' me so, after feelin' me over, whin Ifelt his hand in me waistcoat pockut. 

"'An' fwhat's this, sor?' sez I. 'Do you be lookin' for your fee thatthief's way?'

"He laffed, and said: 'I want no fee from ye, me man, an' I did but feelyour ribs, ' though on me conscience he had done that undher me waistcoatalready. An' so I came home. "

"What did they do to you on Saturday?"

"Saturday, sor, they gave me a whole holiday, and I began to think less ofthings; but on Saturday night, in a dark place, two blayguards tuk methroat from behind, nigh choked me, flung me down, an' wint through all mepockuts in about a quarter av a minut. "

"And they took nothing, you say?"

"Nothing, sor. But this mornin' I got my worst dose. I was trapesing alongdistreshful an' moighty sore, in a street just away off the Strand here, when I obsarved the docthor-man that was at the Crystial Palace stationa-smilin' an' beckonin' at me from a door. 

"'How are ye now?' sez he. 'Well, ' sez I, 'I'm moighty sore an' sadbruised, ' sez I. 'Is that so?' sez he. 'Sthep in here. ' So I sthepped in, an' before I could wink there dhropped a crack on the back av me head thatsent me off as unknowledgable as a corrpse. I knew no more for a while, sor, whether half an hour or an hour, an' thin I got up in a room av theplace, marked 'To Let. ' 'Twas a house full av offices, by the same token, like this. There was a sore bad lump on me head--see ut, sor?--an' thewhole warl' was shpinnin' roun' rampageous. The things out av me pockutswere lyin' on the flure by me--all barrin' the key av me room. So that thedemons had been through me posseshins again, bad luck to 'em. "

"You are quite sure, are you, that everything was there except the key?"Hewitt asked. 

"Certin, sor? Well, I got along to me room, sick an' sorry enough, an'doubtsome whether I might get in wid no key. But there was the key in theopen door, an', by this an' that, all the shtuff in the room--chair, table, bed, an' all--was shtandin' on their heads twisty-ways, an' thebedclothes an' every thin' else; such a disgraceful stramash avconglomerated thruck as ye niver dhreamt av. The chist av drawers waslyin' on uts face, wid all the dhrawers out an' emptied on the flure. 'Twas as though an arrmy had been lootin', sor!"

"But still nothing was gone?"

"Nothin', so far as I investigated, sor. But I didn't shtay. I came out tospake to the polis, an' two av them laffed at me--wan afther another!"

"It has certainly been no laughing matter for you. Now, tell me--have youanything in your possession--documents, or valuables, or anything--thatany other person, to your knowledge, is anxious to get hold of!"

"I have not, sor--divil a document! As to valuables, thim an' me is thecowldest av sthrangers. "

"Just call to mind, now, the face of the man who tried to put powder inyour drink, and that of the doctor who attended to you in the railwaystation. Were they at all alike, or was either like anybody you have seenbefore?"

Leamy puckered his forehead and thought. 

"Faith, " he said presently, "they were a bit alike, though one had a beardan' the udther whiskers only. "

"Neither happened to look like Mr. Hollams, for instance?"

Leamy started. "Begob, but they did! They'd ha' been mortal like him ifthey'd been shaved. " Then, after a pause, he suddenly added: "Holy saints!is ut the fam'ly he talked av?"

Hewitt laughed. "Perhaps it is, " he said. "Now, as to the man who sent youwith the bag. Was it an old bag?"

"Bran' cracklin' new--a brown leather bag. "

"Locked?"

"That I niver thried, sor. It was not my consarn. "

"True. Now, as to this Mr. W. Himself. " Hewitt had been rummaging for somefew minutes in a portfolio, and finally produced a photograph, and held itbefore the Irishman's eye. "Is that like him?" he asked. 

"Shure it's the man himself! Is he a friend av yours, sor?"

"No, he's not exactly a friend of mine, " Hewitt answered, with a grimchuckle. "I fancy he's one of that very respectable _family_ you heardabout at Mr. Hollams'. Come along with me now to Chelsea, and see if youcan point out that house in Gold Street. I'll send for a cab. "

He made for the outer office, and I went with him. 

"What is all this, Hewitt?" I asked. "A gang of thieves with stolenproperty?"

Hewitt looked in my face and replied: "_It's the Quinton ruby_!"

"What! The ruby? Shall you take the case up, then?"

"I shall. It is no longer a speculation. "

"Then do you expect to find it at Hollams' house in Chelsea?" I asked. 

"No, I don't, because it isn't there--else why are they trying to get itfrom this unlucky Irishman? There has been bad faith in Hollams' gang, Iexpect, and Hollams has missed the ruby and suspects Leamy of having takenit from the bag. "

"Then who is this Mr. W. Whose portrait you have in your possession?"

"See here!" Hewitt turned over a small pile of recent newspapers andselected one, pointing at a particular paragraph. "I kept that in my mind, because to me it seemed to be the most likely arrest of the lot, " he said. 

It was an evening paper of the previous Thursday, and the paragraph was avery short one, thus:

"The man Wilks, who was arrested at Euston Station yesterday, inconnection with the robbery of Lady Quinton's jewels, has been released, nothing being found to incriminate him. "

"How does that strike you?" asked Hewitt. "Wilks is a man well known tothe police--one of the most accomplished burglars in this country, infact. I have had no dealings with him as yet, but I found means, some timeago, to add his portrait to my little collection, in case I might want it, and to-day it has been quite useful. "

The thing was plain now. Wilks must have been bringing his booty to town, and calculated on getting out at Chalk Farm and thus eluding the watchwhich he doubtless felt pretty sure would be kept (by telegraphicinstruction) at Euston for suspicious characters arriving from thedirection of Radcot. His transaction with Leamy was his only possibleexpedient to save himself from being hopelessly taken with the swag in hispossession. The paragraph told me why Leamy had waited in vain for "Mr. W. " in the cab. 

"What shall you do now?" I asked. 

"I shall go to the Gold Street house and find out what I can as soon asthis cab turns up. "

There seemed a possibility of some excitement in the adventure, so Iasked: "Will you want any help?"

Hewitt smiled. "I _think_ I can get through it alone, " he said. 

"Then may I come to look on?" I said. "Of course I don't want to be inyour way, and the result of the business, whatever it is, will be to yourcredit alone. But I am curious. "

"Come, then, by all means. The cab will be a four-wheeler, and there willbe plenty of room. "

 * * * * *

Gold Street was a short street of private houses of very fair size and ofa half-vanished pretension to gentility. We drove slowly through, andLeamy had no difficulty in pointing out the house wherein he had been paidfive pounds for carrying a bag. At the end the cab turned the corner andstopped, while Hewitt wrote a short note to an official of Scotland Yard. 

"Take this note, " he instructed Leamy, "to Scotland Yard in the cab, andthen go home. I will pay the cabman now. "

"I will, sor. An' will I be protected?"

"Oh, yes! Stay at home for the rest of the day, and I expect you'll beleft alone in future. Perhaps I shall have something to tell you in a dayor two; if I do, I'll send. Good-by. "

The cab rolled off, and Hewitt and I strolled back along Gold Street. "Ithink, " Hewitt said, "we will drop in on Mr. Hollams for a few minuteswhile we can. In a few hours I expect the police will have him, and hishouse, too, if they attend promptly to my note. "

"Have you ever seen him?"

"Not to my knowledge, though I may know him by some other name. Wilks Iknow by sight, though he doesn't know me. "

"What shall we say?"

"That will depend on circumstances. I may not get my cue till the dooropens, or even till later. At worst, I can easily apply for a reference asto Leamy, who, you remember, is looking for work. "

But we were destined not to make Mr. Hollams' acquaintance, after all. Aswe approached the house a great uproar was heard from the lower partgiving on to the area, and suddenly a man, hatless, and with a sleeve ofhis coat nearly torn away burst through the door and up the area steps, pursued by two others. I had barely time to observe that one of thepursuers carried a revolver, and that both hesitated and retired on seeingthat several people were about the street, when Hewitt, gripping my armand exclaiming: "That's our man!" started at a run after the fugitive. 

We turned the next corner and saw the man thirty yards before us, walking, and pulling up his sleeve at the shoulder, so as to conceal the rent. Plainly he felt save [safe?] from further molestation. 

"That's Sim Wilks, " Hewitt explained, as we followed, "the 'juce of afoine jintleman' who got Leamy to carry his bag, and the man who knowswhere the Quinton ruby is, unless I am more than usually mistaken. Don'tstare after him, in case he looks round. Presently, when we get into thebusier streets, I shall have a little chat with him. "

But for some time the man kept to the back streets. In time, however, heemerged into the Buckingham Palace Road, and we saw him stop and look at ahat-shop. But after a general look over the window and a glance in at thedoor he went on. 

"Good sign!" observed Hewitt; "got no money with him--makes it easier forus. "

In a little while Wilks approached a small crowd gathered about a womanfiddler. Hewitt touched my arm, and a few quick steps took us past our manand to the opposite side of the crowd. When Wilks emerged, he met uscoming in the opposite direction. 

"What, Sim!" burst out Hewitt with apparent delight. "I haven't piped yourmug[A] for a stretch;[B] I thought you'd fell. [C] Where's your cady?"[D]

[Footnote A: Seen your face. ]

[Footnote B: A year. ]

[Footnote C: Been imprisoned. ]

[Footnote D: Hat. ]

Wilks looked astonished and suspicious. "I don't know you, " he said. "You've made a mistake. "

Hewitt laughed. "I'm glad you don't know me, " he said. "If you don't, I'mpretty sure the reelers[A] won't. I think I've faked my mug pretty well, and my clobber, [B] too. Look here: I'll stand you a new cady. Strangeblokes don't do that, eh?"

[Footnote A: Police. ]

[Footnote B: Clothes. ]

Wilks was still suspicious. "I don't know what you mean, " he said. Then, after a pause, he added: "Who are you, then?"

Hewitt winked and screwed his face genially aside. "Hooky!" he said. "I'vehad a lucky touch[A] and I'm Mr. Smith till I've melted the pieces. [B] Youcome and damp it. "

[Footnote A: Robbery. ]

[Footnote B: Spent the money. ]

"I'm off, " Wilks replied. "Unless you're pal enough to lend me a quid, " headded, laughing. 

"I am that, " responded Hewitt, plunging his hand in his pocket. "I'mflush, my boy, flush, and I've been wetting it pretty well to-day. I feelpretty jolly now, and I shouldn't wonder if I went home cannon. [A] Only aquid? Have two, if you want 'em--or three; there's plenty more, and you'lldo the same for me some day. Here y'are. "

[Footnote A: Drunk. ]

Hewitt had, of a sudden, assumed the whole appearance, manners, andbearing of a slightly elevated rowdy. Now he pulled his hand from hispocket and extended it, full of silver, with five or six sovereignsinterspersed, toward Wilks. 

"I'll have three quid, " Wilks said, with decision, taking the money; "butI'm blowed if I remember you. Who's your pal?"

Hewitt jerked his hand in my direction, winked, and said, in a low voice:"He's all right. Having a rest. Can't stand Manchester, " and winked again. 

Wilks laughed and nodded, and I understood from that that Hewitt had veryflatteringly given me credit for being "wanted" by the Manchester police. 

We lurched into a public house, and drank a very little very bad whiskyand water. Wilks still regarded us curiously, and I could see him againand again glancing doubtfully in Hewitt's face. But the loan of threepounds had largely reassured him. Presently Hewitt said:

"How about our old pal down in Gold Street? Do anything with him now? Seenhim lately?"

Wilks looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. 

"That's a good job. It 'ud be awkward if you were about there to-day, Ican tell you. "

"Why?"

"Never mind, so long as you're not there. I know something, if I _have_been away. I'm glad I haven't had any truck with Gold Street lately, that's all. "

"D'you mean the reelers are on it?"

Hewitt looked cautiously over his shoulder, leaned toward Wilks, and said:"Look here: this is the straight tip. I know this--I got it from the verynark[A] that's given the show away: By six o'clock No. 8 Gold Street willbe turned inside out, like an old glove, and everyone in the place willbe----" He finished the sentence by crossing his wrists like a handcuffedman. "What's more, " he went on, "they know all about what's gone on therelately, and everybody that's been in or out for the last two moons[B] willbe wanted particular--and will be found, I'm told. " Hewitt concluded witha confidential frown, a nod, and a wink, and took another mouthful ofwhisky. Then he added, as an after-thought: "So I'm glad you haven't beenthere lately. "

[Footnote A: Police spy. ]

[Footnote B: Months. ]

Wilks looked in Hewitt's face and asked: "Is that straight?"

"_Is_ it?" replied Hewitt with emphasis. "You go and have a look, if youain't afraid of being smugged yourself. Only _I_ shan't go near No. 8 justyet--I know that. "

Wilks fidgeted, finished his drink, and expressed his intention of going. "Very well, if you _won't_ have another----" replied Hewitt. But he hadgone. 

"Good!" said Hewitt, moving toward the door; "he has suddenly developed ahurry. I shall keep him in sight, but you had better take a cab and gostraight to Euston. Take tickets to the nearest station toRadcot--Kedderby, I think it is--and look up the train arrangements. Don'tshow yourself too much, and keep an eye on the entrance. Unless I ammistaken, Wilks will be there pretty soon, and I shall be on his heels. IfI _am_ wrong, then you won't see the end of the fun, that's all. "

Hewitt hurried after Wilks, and I took the cab and did as he wished. Therewas an hour and a few minutes, I found, to wait for the next train, andthat time I occupied as best I might, keeping a sharp lookout across thequadrangle. Barely five minutes before the train was to leave, and just asI was beginning to think about the time of the next, a cab dashed up andHewitt alighted. He hurried in, found me, and drew me aside into a recess, just as another cab arrived. 

"Here he is, " Hewitt said. "I followed him as far as Euston Road and thengot my cabby to spurt up and pass him. He had had his mustache shaved off, and I feared you mightn't recognize him, and so let him see you. "

From our retreat we could see Wilks hurry into the booking-office. Wewatched him through to the platform and followed. He wasted no time, butmade the best of his way to a third-class carriage at the extreme fore endof the train. 

"We have three minutes, " Hewitt said, "and everything depends on his notseeing us get into this train. Take this cap. Fortunately, we're both intweed suits. "

He had bought a couple of tweed cricket caps, and these we assumed, sending our "bowler" hats to the cloak-room. Hewitt also put on a pair ofblue spectacles, and then walked boldly up the platform and entered afirst-class carriage. I followed close on his heels, in such a manner thata person looking from the fore end of the train would be able to see butvery little of me. 

"So far so good, " said Hewitt, when we were seated and the train began tomove off. "I must keep a lookout at each station, in case our friend goesoff unexpectedly. "

"I waited some time, " I said; "where did you both go to?"

"First he went and bought that hat he is wearing. Then he walked somedistance, dodging the main thoroughfares and keeping to the back streetsin a way that made following difficult, till he came to a little tailor'sshop. There he entered and came out in a quarter of an hour with his coatmended. This was in a street in Westminster. Presently he worked his wayup to Tothill Street, and there he plunged into a barber's shop. I took acautious peep at the window, saw two or three other customers alsowaiting, and took the opportunity to rush over to a 'notion' shop and buythese blue spectacles, and to a hatter's for these caps--of which I regretto observe that yours is too big. He was rather a long while in thebarber's, and finally came out, as you saw him, with no mustache. This wasa good indication. It made it plainer than ever that he had believed mywarning as to the police descent on the house in Gold Street and itsfrequenters; which was right and proper, for what I told him was quitetrue. The rest you know. He cabbed to the station, and so did I. "

"And now perhaps, " I said, "after giving me the character of a thiefwanted by the Manchester police, forcibly depriving me of my hat inexchange for this all-too-large cap, and rushing me off out of Londonwithout any definite idea of when I'm coming back, perhaps you'll tell mewhat we're after?"

Hewitt laughed. "You wanted to join in, you know, " he said, "and you musttake your luck as it comes. As a matter of fact there is scarcely anythingin my profession so uninteresting and so difficult as this watching andfollowing business. Often it lasts for weeks. When we alight, we shallhave to follow Wilks again, under the most difficult possible conditions, in the country. There it is often quite impossible to follow a manunobserved. It is only because it is the only way that I am undertaking itnow. As to what we're after, you know that as well as I--the Quinton ruby. Wilks has hidden it, and without his help it would be impossible to findit. We are following him so that he will find it for us. "

"He must have hidden it, I suppose, to avoid sharing with Hollams?"

"Of course, and availed himself of the fact of Leamy having carried thebag to direct Hollams's suspicion to him. Hollams found out by hisrepeated searches of Leamy and his lodgings, that this was wrong, and thismorning evidently tried to persuade the ruby out of Wilks' possession witha revolver. We saw the upshot of that. "

Kedderby Station was about forty miles out. At each intermediate stoppingstation Hewitt watched earnestly, but Wilks remained in the train. "What Ifear, " Hewitt observed, "is that at Kedderby he may take a fly. To stalk aman on foot in the country is difficult enough; but you _can't_ follow onevehicle in another without being spotted. But if he's so smart as I think, he won't do it. A man traveling in a fly is noticed and remembered inthese places. "

He did _not_ take a fly. At Kedderby we saw him jump out quickly andhasten from the station. The train stood for a few minutes, and he was outof the station before we alighted. Through the railings behind theplatform we could see him walking briskly away to the right. From theticket collector we ascertained that Radcot lay in that direction, threemiles off. 

To my dying day I shall never forget that three miles. They seemed threehundred. In the still country almost every footfall seemed audible for anydistance, and in the long stretches of road one could see half a milebehind or before. Hewitt was cool and patient, but I got into a fever ofworry, excitement, want of breath, and back-ache. At first, for a little, the road zig-zagged, and then the chase was comparatively easy. We waitedbehind one bend till Wilks had passed the next, and then hurried in histrail, treading in the dustiest parts of the road or on the side grass, when there was any, to deaden the sound of our steps. 

At the last of these short bends we looked ahead and saw a long, whitestretch of road with the dark form of Wilks a couple of hundred yards infront. It would never do to let him get to the end of this great stretchbefore following, as he might turn off at some branch road out of sightand be lost. So we jumped the hedge and scuttled along as we best might onthe other side, with backs bent, and our feet often many inches deep inwet clay. We had to make continual stoppages to listen and peep out, andon one occasion, happening, incautiously, to stand erect, looking afterhim, I was much startled to see Wilks, with his face toward me, gazingdown the road. I ducked like lightning, and, fortunately, he seemed not tohave observed me, but went on as before. He had probably heard some slightnoise, but looked straight along the road for its explanation, instead ofover the hedge. At hilly parts of the road there was extreme difficulty;indeed, on approaching a rise it was usually necessary to lie down underthe hedge till Wilks had passed the top, since from the higher ground hecould have seen us easily. This improved neither my clothes, my comfort, nor my temper. Luckily we never encountered the difficulty of a long andhigh wall, but once we were nearly betrayed by a man who shouted to orderus off his field. 

At last we saw, just ahead, the square tower of an old church, set aboutwith thick trees. Opposite this Wilks paused, looked irresolutely up anddown the road, and then went on. We crossed the road, availed ourselves ofthe opposite hedge, and followed. The village was to be seen some three orfour hundred yards farther along the road, and toward it Wilks saunteredslowly. Before he actually reached the houses he stopped and turned back. 

"The churchyard!" exclaimed Hewitt, under his breath. "Lie close and lethim pass. "

Wilks reached the churchyard gate, and again looked irresolutely abouthim. At that moment a party of children, who had been playing among thegraves, came chattering and laughing toward and out of the gate, and Wilkswalked hastily away again, this time in the opposite direction. 

"That's the place, clearly, " Hewitt said. "We must slip across quietly, assoon as he's far enough down the road. Now!"

We hurried stealthily across, through the gate, and into the churchyard, where Hewitt threw his blue spectacles away. It was now nearly eight inthe evening, and the sun was setting. Once again Wilks approached thegate, and did not enter, because a laborer passed at the time. Then hecame back and slipped through. 

The grass about the graves was long, and under the trees it was alreadytwilight. Hewitt and I, two or three yards apart, to avoid falling overone another in case of sudden movement, watched from behind gravestones. The form of Wilks stood out large and black against the fading light inthe west as he stealthily approached through the long grass. A light cartcame clattering along the road, and Wilks dropped at once and crouched onhis knees till it had passed. Then, staring warily about him, he madestraight for the stone behind which Hewitt waited. 

I saw Hewitt's dark form swing noiselessly round to the other side of thestone. Wilks passed on and dropped on his knee beside a large, weather-worn slab that rested on a brick under-structure a foot or sohigh. The long grass largely hid the bricks, and among it Wilks plungedhis hand, feeling along the brick surface. Presently he drew out a loosebrick, and laid it on the slab. He felt again in the place, and broughtforth a small dark object. I saw Hewitt rise erect in the gathering dusk, and with extended arm step noiselessly toward the stooping man. Wilks madea motion to place the dark object in his pocket, but checked himself, andopened what appeared to be a lid, as though to make sure of the safety ofthe contents. The last light, straggling under the trees, fell on abrilliantly sparkling object within, and like a flash Hewitt's hand shotover Wilks' shoulder and snatched the jewel. 

The man actually screamed--one of those curious sharp little screams thatone may hear from a woman very suddenly alarmed. But he sprang at Hewittlike a cat, only to meet a straight drive of the fist that stretched himon his back across the slab. I sprang from behind my stone, and helpedHewitt to secure his wrists with a pocket-handkerchief. Then we marchedhim, struggling and swearing, to the village. 

When, in the lights of the village, he recognized us, he had a perfect fitof rage, but afterward he calmed down, and admitted that it was a "veryclean cop. " There was some difficulty in finding the village constable, and Sir Valentine Quinton was dining out and did not arrive for at leastan hour. In the interval Wilks grew communicative. 

"How much d'ye think I'll get?" he asked. 

"Can't guess, " Hewitt replied. "And as we shall probably have to giveevidence, you'll be giving yourself away if you talk too much. "

"Oh, I don't care; that'll make no difference. It's a fair cop, and I'm infor it. You got at me nicely, lending me three quid. I never knew a reelerdo that before. That blinded me. But was it kid about Gold Street?"

"No, it wasn't. Mr. Hollams is safely shut up by this time, I expect, andyou are avenged for your little trouble with him this afternoon. "

"What did you know about that? Well, you've got it up nicely for me, Imust say. S'pose you've been following me all the time?"

"Well, yes; I haven't been far off. I guessed you'd want to clear out oftown if Hollams was taken, and I knew this"--Hewitt tapped his breastpocket--"was what you'd take care to get hold of first. You hid it, ofcourse, because you knew that Hollams would probably have you searched forit if he got suspicious?"

"Yes, he did, too. Two blokes went over my pockets one night, and somebodygot into my room. But I expected that, Hollams is such a greedy pig. Oncehe's got you under his thumb he don't give you half your makings, and, ifyou kick, he'll have you smugged. So that I wasn't going to give him_that_ if I could help it. I s'pose it ain't any good asking how you gotput on to our mob?"

"No, " said Hewitt, "it isn't. "

 * * * * *

We didn't get back till the next day, staying for the night, despite aninconvenient want of requisites, at the Hall. There were, in fact, no latetrains. We told Sir Valentine the story of the Irishman, much to hisamusement. 

"Leamy's tale sounded unlikely, of course, " Hewitt said, "but it wasnoticeable that every one of his misfortunes pointed in the samedirection--that certain persons were tremendously anxious to get atsomething they supposed he had. When he spoke of his adventure with thebag, I at once remembered Wilks' arrest and subsequent release. It was acurious coincidence, to say the least, that this should happen at the verystation to which the proceeds of this robbery must come, if they came toLondon at all, and on the day following the robbery itself. Kedderby isone of the few stations on this line where no trains would stop after thetime of the robbery, so that the thief would have to wait till the nextday to get back. Leamy's recognition of Wilks' portrait made me feelpretty certain. Plainly, he had carried stolen property; the poor, innocent fellow's conversation with Hollams showed that, as, in fact, didthe sum, five pounds, paid to him by way of 'regulars, ' or customary toll, from the plunder of services of carriage. Hollams obviously took Leamy fora criminal friend of Wilks', because of his use of the thieves'expressions 'sparks' and 'regulars, ' and suggested, in terms which Leamymisunderstood, that he should sell any plunder he might obtain to himself, Hollams. Altogether it would have been very curious if the plunder were_not_ that from Radcot Hall, especially as no other robbery had beenreported at the time. 

"Now, among the jewels taken, only one was of a very pre-eminentvalue--the famous ruby. It was scarcely likely that Hollams would go to somuch trouble and risk, attempting to drug, injuring, waylaying, andburgling the rooms of the unfortunate Leamy, for a jewel of smallvalue--for any jewel, in fact, but the ruby. So that I felt a prettystrong presumption, at all events, that it was the ruby Hollams was after. Leamy had not had it, I was convinced, from his tale and his manner, andfrom what I judged of the man himself. The only other person was Wilks, and certainly he had a temptation to keep this to himself, and avoid, ifpossible, sharing with his London director, or principal; while thecarriage of the bag by the Irishman gave him a capital opportunity to putsuspicion on him, with the results seen. The most daring of Hollams'attacks on Leamy was doubtless the attempted maiming or killing at therailway station, so as to be able, in the character of a medical man, tosearch his pockets. He was probably desperate at the time, having, I haveno doubt, been following Leamy about all day at the Crystal Palace withoutfinding an opportunity to get at his pockets. 

"The struggle and flight of Wilks from Hollams' confirmed my previousimpressions. Hollams, finally satisfied that very morning that Leamycertainly had not the jewel, either on his person or at his lodging, andknowing, from having so closely watched him, that he had been nowherewhere it could be disposed of, concluded that Wilks was cheating him, andattempted to extort the ruby from him by the aid of another ruffian and apistol. The rest of my way was plain. Wilks, I knew, would seize theopportunity of Hollams' being safely locked up to get at and dispose ofthe ruby. I supplied him with funds and left him to lead us to hishiding-place. He did it, and I think that's all. "

"He must have walked straight away from my house to the churchyard, " SirValentine remarked, "to hide that pendant. That was fairly cool. "

"Only a cool hand could carry out such a robbery single-handed, " Hewittanswered. "I expect his tools were in the bag that Leamy carried, as wellas the jewels. They must have been a small and neat set. "

They were. We ascertained on our return to town the next day that the bag, with all its contents intact, including the tools, had been taken by thepolice at their surprise visit to No. 8 Gold Street, as well as much otherstolen property. 

Hollams and Wilks each got very wholesome doses of penal servitude, to theintense delight of Mick Leamy. Leamy himself, by the by, is still to beseen, clad in a noble uniform, guarding the door of a well-known Londonrestaurant. He has not had any more five-pound notes for carrying bags, but knows London too well now to expect it. 

VI. 

THE STANWAY CAMEO MYSTERY. 

It is now a fair number of years back since the loss of the famous StanwayCameo made its sensation, and the only person who had the least interestin keeping the real facts of the case secret has now been dead for sometime, leaving neither relatives nor other representatives. Therefore noharm will be done in making the inner history of the case public; on thecontrary, it will afford an opportunity of vindicating the professionalreputation of Hewitt, who is supposed to have completely failed to makeanything of the mystery surrounding the case. At the present timeconnoisseurs in ancient objects of art are often heard regretfully towonder whether the wonderful cameo, so suddenly discovered and so quicklystolen, will ever again be visible to the public eye. Now this questionneed be asked no longer. 

The cameo, as may be remembered from the many descriptions published atthe time, was said to be absolutely the finest extant. It was a sardonyxof three strata--one of those rare sardonyx cameos in which it has beenpossible for the artist to avail himself of three different colors ofsuperimposed stone--the lowest for the ground and the two others for themiddle and high relief of the design. In size it was, for a cameo, immense, measuring seven and a half inches by nearly six. In subject itwas similar to the renowned Gonzaga Cameo--now the property of the Czar ofRussia--a male and a female head with imperial insignia; but in this casesupposed to represent Tiberius Claudius and Messalina. Experts consideredit probably to be the work of Athenion, a famous gem-cutter of the firstChristian century, whose most notable other work now extant is a smallercameo, with a mythological subject, preserved in the Vatican. 

The Stanway Cameo had been discovered in an obscure Italian village by oneof those traveling agents who scour all Europe for valuable antiquitiesand objects of art. This man had hurried immediately to London with hisprize, and sold it to Mr. Claridge of St. James Street, eminent as adealer in such objects. Mr. Claridge, recognizing the importance and valueof the article, lost no opportunity of making its existence known, andvery soon the Claudius Cameo, as it was at first usually called, was asfamous as any in the world. Many experts in ancient art examined it, andseveral large bids were made for its purchase. 

In the end it was bought by the Marquis of Stanway for five thousandpounds for the purpose of presentation to the British Museum. The marquiskept the cameo at his town house for a few days, showing it to hisfriends, and then returned it to Mr. Claridge to be finally and carefullycleaned before passing into the national collection. Two nights after Mr. Claridge's premises were broken into and the cameo stolen. 

Such, in outline, was the generally known history of the Stanway Cameo. The circumstances of the burglary in detail were these: Mr. Claridge hadhimself been the last to leave the premises at about eight in the evening, at dusk, and had locked the small side door as usual. His assistant, Mr. Cutler, had left an hour and a half earlier. When Mr. Claridge left, everything was in order, and the policeman on fixed-point duty justopposite, who bade Mr. Claridge good-evening as he left, saw nothingsuspicious during the rest of his term of duty, nor did his successors atthe point throughout the night. 

In the morning, however, Mr. Cutler, the assistant, who arrived first, soon after nine o'clock, at once perceived that something unlooked-for hadhappened. The door, of which he had a key, was still fastened, and had notbeen touched; but in the room behind the shop Mr. Claridge's private deskhad been broken open, and the contents turned out in confusion. The doorleading on to the staircase had also been forced. Proceeding up thestairs, Mr. Cutler found another door open, leading from the top landingto a small room; this door had been opened by the simple expedient ofunscrewing and taking off the lock, which had been on the inside. In theceiling of this room was a trap-door, and this was six or eight inchesopen, the edge resting on the half-wrenched-off bolt, which had been tornaway when the trap was levered open from the outside. 

Plainly, then, this was the path of the thief or thieves. Entrance hadbeen made through the trap-door, two more doors had been opened, and thenthe desk had been ransacked. Mr. Cutler afterward explained that at thistime he had no precise idea what had been stolen, and did not know wherethe cameo had been left on the previous evening. Mr. Claridge had himselfundertaken the cleaning, and had been engaged on it, the assistant said, when he left. 

There was no doubt, however, after Mr. Claridge's arrival at teno'clock--the cameo was gone. Mr. Claridge, utterly confounded at his loss, explained incoherently, and with curses on his own carelessness, that hehad locked the precious article in his desk on relinquishing work on itthe previous evening, feeling rather tired, and not taking the trouble tocarry it as far as the safe in another part of the house. 

The police were sent for at once, of course, and every investigation made, Mr. Claridge offering a reward of five hundred pounds for the recovery ofthe cameo. The affair was scribbled off at large in the earliest editionsof the evening papers, and by noon all the world was aware of theextraordinary theft of the Stanway Cameo, and many people were discussingthe probabilities of the case, with very indistinct ideas of what asardonyx cameo precisely was. 

It was in the afternoon of this day that Lord Stanway called on MartinHewitt. The marquis was a tall, upstanding man of spare figure and activehabits, well known as a member of learned societies and a great patron ofart. He hurried into Hewitt's private room as soon as his name had beenannounced, and, as soon as Hewitt had given him a chair, plunged intobusiness. 

"Probably you already guess my business with you, Mr. Hewitt--you haveseen the early evening papers? Just so; then I needn't tell you again whatyou already know. My cameo is gone, and I badly want it back. Of coursethe police are hard at work at Claridge's, but I'm not quite satisfied. Ihave been there myself for two or three hours, and can't see that theyknow any more about it than I do myself. Then, of course, the police, naturally and properly enough from their point of view, look first to findthe criminal, regarding the recovery of the property almost as a secondaryconsideration. Now, from _my_ point of view, the chief consideration isthe property. Of course I want the thief caught, if possible, and properlypunished; but still more I want the cameo. "

"Certainly it is a considerable loss. Five thousand pounds----"

"Ah, but don't misunderstand me! It isn't the monetary value of the thingthat I regret. As a matter of fact, I am indemnified for that already. Claridge has behaved most honorably--more than honorably. Indeed, thefirst intimation I had of the loss was a check from him for five thousandpounds, with a letter assuring me that the restoration to me of the amountI had paid was the least he could do to repair the result of what hecalled his unpardonable carelessness. Legally, I'm not sure that I coulddemand anything of him, unless I could prove very flagrant neglect indeedto guard against theft. "

"Then I take it, Lord Stanway, " Hewitt observed, "that you much prefer thecameo to the money?"

"Certainly. Else I should never have been willing to pay the money for thecameo. It was an enormous price--perhaps much above the market value, evenfor such a valuable thing--but I was particularly anxious that it shouldnot go out of the country. Our public collections here are not sofortunate as they should be in the possession of the very finest examplesof that class of work. In short, I had determined on the cameo, and, fortunately, happen to be able to carry out determinations of that sortwithout regarding an extra thousand pounds or so as an obstacle. So that, you see, what I want is not the value, but the thing itself. Indeed, Idon't think I can possibly keep the money Claridge has sent me; the affairis more his misfortune than his fault. But I shall say nothing aboutreturning it for a little while; it may possibly have the effect ofsharpening everybody in the search. "

"Just so. Do I understand that you would like me to look into the caseindependently, on your behalf?"

"Exactly. I want you, if you can, to approach the matter entirely from mypoint of view--your sole object being to find the cameo. Of course, if youhappen on the thief as well, so much the better. Perhaps, after all, looking for the one is the same thing as looking for the other?"

"Not always; but usually it is, or course; even if they are not together, they certainly _have_ been at one time, and to have one is a very longstep toward having the other. Now, to begin with, is anybody suspected?"

"Well, the police are reserved, but I believe the fact is they've nothingto say. Claridge won't admit that he suspects any one, though he believesthat whoever it was must have watched him yesterday evening through theback window of his room, and must have seen him put the cameo away in hisdesk; because the thief would seem to have gone straight to the place. ButI half fancy that, in his inner mind, he is inclined to suspect one of twopeople. You see, a robbery of this sort is different from others. Thatcameo would never be stolen, I imagine, with the view of its beingsold--it is much too famous a thing; a man might as well walk aboutoffering to sell the Tower of London. There are only a very few people whobuy such things, and every one of them knows all about it. No dealer wouldtouch it; he could never even show it, much less sell it, without beingcalled to account. So that it really seems more likely that it has beentaken by somebody who wishes to keep it for mere love of the thing--acollector, in fact--who would then have to keep it secretly at home, andnever let a soul besides himself see it, living in the consciousness thatat his death it must be found and this theft known; unless, indeed, anordinary vulgar burglar has taken it without knowing its value. "

"That isn't likely, " Hewitt replied. "An ordinary burglar, ignorant of itsvalue, wouldn't have gone straight to the cameo and have taken it inpreference to many other things of more apparent worth, which must belying near in such a place as Claridge's. "

"True--I suppose he wouldn't. Although the police seem to think that thebreaking in is clearly the work of a regular criminal--from thejimmy-marks, you know, and so on. "

"Well, but what of the two people you think Mr. Claridge suspects?"

"Of course I can't say that he does suspect them--I only fancied from histone that it might be possible; he himself insists that he can't, injustice, suspect anybody. One of these men is Hahn, the traveling agentwho sold him the cameo. This man's character does not appear to beabsolutely irreproachable; no dealer trusts him very far. Of courseClaridge doesn't say what he paid him for the cameo; these dealers arevery reticent about their profits, which I believe are as often somethinglike five hundred per cent as not. But it seems Hahn bargained to havesomething extra, depending on the amount Claridge could sell the carvingfor. According to the appointment he should have turned up this morning, but he hasn't been seen, and nobody seems to know exactly where he is. "

"Yes; and the other person?"

"Well, I scarcely like mentioning him, because he is certainly agentleman, and I believe, in the ordinary way, quite incapable of anythingin the least degree dishonorable; although, of course, they say acollector has no conscience in the matter of his own particular hobby, andcertainly Mr. Wollett is as keen a collector as any man alive. He lives inchambers in the next turning past Claridge's premises--can, in fact, lookinto Claridge's back windows if he likes. He examined the cameo severaltimes before I bought it, and made several high offers--appeared, in fact, very anxious indeed to get it. After I had bought it he made, Iunderstand, some rather strong remarks about people like myself 'spoilingthe market' by paying extravagant prices, and altogether cut up 'crusty, 'as they say, at losing the specimen. " Lord Stanway paused a few seconds, and then went on: "I'm not sure that I ought to mention Mr. Woollett'sname for a moment in connection with such a matter; I am personallyperfectly certain that he is as incapable of anything like theft asmyself. But I am telling you all I know. "

"Precisely. I can't know too much in a case like this. It can do no harmif I know all about fifty innocent people, and may save me from the riskof knowing nothing about the thief. Now, let me see: Mr. Wollett's rooms, you say, are near Mr. Claridge's place of business? Is there any means ofcommunication between the roofs?"

"Yes, I am told that it is perfectly possible to get from one place to theother by walking along the leads. "

"Very good! Then, unless you can think of any other information that mayhelp me, I think, Lord Stanway, I will go at once and look at the place. "

"Do, by all means. I think I'll come back with you. Somehow, I don't liketo feel idle in the matter, though I suppose I can't do much. As to moreinformation, I don't think there is any. "

"In regard to Mr. Claridge's assistant, now: Do you know anything of him?"

"Only that he has always seemed a very civil and decent sort of man. Honest, I should say, or Claridge wouldn't have kept him so manyyears--there are a good many valuable things about at Claridge's. Besides, the man has keys of the place himself, and, even if he were a thief, hewouldn't need to go breaking in through the roof. "

"So that, " said Hewitt, "we have, directly connected with this cameo, besides yourself, these people: Mr. Claridge, the dealer; Mr. Cutler, theassistant in Mr. Claridge's business; Hahn, who sold the article toClaridge, and Mr. Woollett, who made bids for it. These are all?"

"All that I know of. Other gentlemen made bids, I believe, but I don'tknow them. "

"Take these people in their order. Mr. Claridge is out of the question, asa dealer with a reputation to keep up would be, even if he hadn'timmediately sent you this five thousand pounds--more than the marketvalue, I understand, of the cameo. The assistant is a reputable man, against whom nothing is known, who would never need to break in, and whomust understand his business well enough to know that he could neverattempt to sell the missing stone without instant detection. Hahn is a manof shady antecedents, probably clever enough to know as well as anybodyhow to dispose of such plunder--if it be possible to dispose of it at all;also, Hahn hasn't been to Claridge's to-day, although he had anappointment to take money. Lastly, Mr. Woollett is a gentleman of the mosthonorable record, but a perfectly rabid collector, who had made everyeffort to secure the cameo before you bought it; who, moreover, could haveseen Mr. Claridge working in his back room, and who has perfectly easyaccess to Mr. Claridge's roof. If we find it can't be none of these, thenwe must look where circumstances indicate. "

There was unwonted excitement at Mr. Claridge's place when Hewitt and hisclient arrived. It was a dull old building, and in the windows there wasnever more show than an odd blue china vase or two, or, mayhap, a few oldsilver shoe-buckles and a curious small sword. Nine men out of ten wouldhave passed it without a glance; but the tenth at least would probablyknow it for a place famous through the world for the number and value ofthe old and curious objects of art that had passed through it. 

On this day two or three loiterers, having heard of the robbery, extractedwhat gratification they might from staring at nothing between the railingsguarding the windows. Within, Mr. Claridge, a brisk, stout, little oldman, was talking earnestly to a burly police-inspector in uniform, and Mr. Cutler, who had seized the opportunity to attempt amateur detective workon his own account, was groveling perseveringly about the floor, among oldporcelain and loose pieces of armor, in the futile hope of finding anyclue that the thieves might have considerately dropped. 

Mr. Claridge came forward eagerly. 

"The leather case has been found, I am pleased to be able to tell you, Lord Stanway, since you left. "

"Empty, of course?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It had evidently been thrown away by the thief behinda chimney-stack a roof or two away, where the police have found it. But itis a clue, of course. "

"Ah, then this gentleman will give me his opinion of it, " Lord Stanwaysaid, turning to Hewitt. "This, Mr. Claridge, is Mr. Martin Hewitt, whohas been kind enough to come with me here at a moment's notice. With thepolice on the one hand and Mr. Hewitt on the other we shall certainlyrecover that cameo, if it is to be recovered, I think. "

Mr. Claridge bowed, and beamed on Hewitt through his spectacles. "I'm veryglad Mr. Hewitt has come, " he said. "Indeed, I had already decided to givethe police till this time to-morrow, and then, if they had found nothing, to call in Mr. Hewitt myself. "

Hewitt bowed in his turn, and then asked: "Will you let me see the variousbreakages? I hope they have not been disturbed. "

"Nothing whatever has been disturbed. Do exactly as seems best. I needscarcely say that everything here is perfectly at your disposal. You knowall the circumstances, of course?"

"In general, yes. I suppose I am right in the belief that you have noresident housekeeper?"

"No, " Claridge replied, "I haven't. I had one housekeeper who sometimespawned my property in the evening, and then another who used to break mymost valuable china, till I could never sleep or take a moment's ease athome for fear my stock was being ruined here. So I gave up residenthousekeepers. I felt some confidence in doing it because of the policemanwho is always on duty opposite. "

"Can I see the broken desk?"

Mr. Claridge led the way into the room behind the shop. The desk wasreally a sort of work-table, with a lifting top and a lock. The top hadbeen forced roughly open by some instrument which had been pushed in belowit and used as a lever, so that the catch of the lock was torn away. Hewitt examined the damaged parts and the marks of the lever, and thenlooked out at the back window. 

"There are several windows about here, " he remarked, "from which it mightbe possible to see into this room. Do you know any of the people who livebehind them?"

"Two or three I know, " Mr. Claridge answered, "but there are twowindows--the pair almost immediately before us--belonging to a room oroffice which is to let. Any stranger might get in there and watch. "

"Do the roofs above any of those windows communicate in any way withyours?"

"None of those directly opposite. Those at the left do; you may walk allthe way along the leads. "

"And whose windows are they?"

Mr. Claridge hesitated. "Well, " he said, "they're Mr. Woollett's, anexcellent customer of mine. But he's a gentleman, and--well, I reallythink it's absurd to suspect him. "

"In a case like this, " Hewitt answered, "one must disregard nothing butthe impossible. Somebody--whether Mr. Woollett himself or anotherperson--could possibly have seen into this room from those windows, andequally possibly could have reached this room from that one. Therefore wemust not forget Mr. Woollett. Have any of your neighbors been burgledduring the night? I mean that strangers anxious to get at your trap-doorwould probably have to begin by getting into some other house close by, soas to reach your roof. "

"No, " Mr. Claridge replied; "there has been nothing of that sort. It wasthe first thing the police ascertained. "

Hewitt examined the broken door and then made his way up the stairs withthe others. The unscrewed lock of the door of the top back-room requiredlittle examination. In the room below the trap-door was a dusty table onwhich stood a chair, and at the other side of the table satDetective-Inspector Plummer, whom Hewitt knew very well, and who bade him"good-day" and then went on with his docket. 

"This chair and table were found as they are now, I take it?" Hewittasked. 

"Yes, " said Mr. Claridge; "the thieves, I should think, dropped in throughthe trap-door, after breaking it open, and had to place this chair whereit is to be able to climb back. "

Hewitt scrambled up through the trap-way and examined it from the top. Thedoor was hung on long external barn-door hinges, and had been forced openin a similar manner to that practiced on the desk. A jimmy had been pushedbetween the frame and the door near the bolt, and the door had been priedopen, the bolt being torn away from the screws in the operation. 

Presently Inspector Plummer, having finished his docket, climbed up to theroof after Hewitt, and the two together went to the spot, close under achimney-stack on the next roof but one, where the case had been found. Plummer produced the case, which he had in his coat-tail pocket, forHewitt's inspection. 

"I don't see anything particular about it; do you?" he said. "It shows usthe way they went, though, being found just here. "

"Well, yes, " Hewitt said; "if we kept on in this direction, we should begoing toward Mr. Woollett's house, and _his_ trap-door, shouldn't we!"

The inspector pursed his lips, smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "Ofcourse we haven't waited till now to find that out, " he said. 

"No, of course. And, as you say, I didn't think there is much to belearned from this leather case. It is almost new, and there isn't a markon it. " And Hewitt handed it back to the inspector. 

"Well, " said Plummer, as he returned the case to his pocket, "what's youropinion?"

"It's rather an awkward case. "

"Yes, it is. Between ourselves--I don't mind telling you--I'm having asharp lookout kept over there"--Plummer jerked his head in the directionof Mr. Woollett's chambers--"because the robbery's an unusual one. There'sonly two possible motives--the sale of the cameo or the keeping of it. Thesale's out of the question, as you know; the thing's only salable to thosewho would collar the thief at once, and who wouldn't have the thing intheir places now for anything. So that it must be taken to keep, andthat's a thing nobody but the maddest of collectors would do, just suchpersons as--" and the inspector nodded again toward Mr. Woollett'squarters. "Take that with the other circumstances, " he added, "and I thinkyou'll agree it's worth while looking a little farther that way. Of coursesome of the work--taking off the lock and so on--looks rather like aregular burglar, but it's just possible that any one badly wanting thecameo would like to hire a man who was up to the work. "

"Yes, it's possible. "

"Do you know anything of Hahn, the agent?" Plummer asked, a moment later. 

"No, I don't. Have you found him yet?"

"I haven't yet, but I'm after him. I've found he was at Charing Cross aday or two ago, booking a ticket for the Continent. That and his failingto turn up to-day seem to make it worth while not to miss _him_ if we canhelp it. He isn't the sort of man that lets a chance of drawing a bit ofmoney go for nothing. "

They returned to the room. "Well, " said Lord Stanway, "what's the resultof the consultation? We've been waiting here very patiently, while you twoclever men have been discussing the matter on the roof. "

On the wall just beneath the trap-door a very dusty old tall hat hung on apeg. This Hewitt took down and examined very closely, smearing his fingerswith the dust from the inside lining. "Is this one of your valuable andcrusted old antiques?" he asked, with a smile, of Mr. Claridge. 

"That's only an old hat that I used to keep here for use in bad weather, "Mr. Claridge said, with some surprise at the question. "I haven't touchedit for a year or more. "

"Oh, then it couldn't have been left here by your last night's visitor, "Hewitt replied, carelessly replacing it on the hook. "You left here ateight last night, I think?"

"Eight exactly--or within a minute or two. "

"Just so. I think I'll look at the room on the opposite side of thelanding, if you'll let me. "

"Certainly, if you'd like to, " Claridge replied; "but they haven't beenthere--it is exactly as it was left. Only a lumber-room, you see, " heconcluded, flinging the door open. 

A number of partly broken-up packing-cases littered about this room, withmuch other rubbish. Hewitt took the lid of one of the newest-lookingpacking-cases, and glanced at the address label. Then he turned to a rustyold iron box that stood against a wall. "I should like to see behindthis, " he said, tugging at it with his hands. "It is heavy and dirty. Isthere a small crowbar about the house, or some similar lever?"

Mr. Claridge shook his head. "Haven't such a thing in the place, " he said. 

"Never mind, " Hewitt replied, "another time will do to shift that old box, and perhaps, after all, there's little reason for moving it. I will justwalk round to the police-station, I think, and speak to the constables whowere on duty opposite during the night. I think, Lord Stanway, I have seenall that is necessary here. "

"I suppose, " asked Mr. Claridge, "it is too soon yet to ask if you haveformed any theory in the matter?"

"Well--yes, it is, " Hewitt answered. "But perhaps I may be able tosurprise you in an hour or two; but that I don't promise. By the by, " headded suddenly, "I suppose you're sure the trap-door was bolted lastnight?"

"Certainly, " Mr. Claridge answered, smiling. "Else how could the bolt havebeen broken? As a matter of fact, I believe the trap hasn't been openedfor months. Mr. Cutler, do you remember when the trap-door was lastopened?"

Mr. Cutler shook his head. "Certainly not for six months, " he said. 

"Ah, very well; it's not very important, " Hewitt replied. 

As they reached the front shop a fiery-faced old gentleman bounced in atthe street door, stumbling over an umbrella that stood in a dark corner, and kicking it three yards away. 

"What the deuce do you mean, " he roared at Mr. Claridge, "by sending thesepolice people smelling about my rooms and asking questions of my servants?What do you mean, sir, by treating me as a thief? Can't a gentleman comeinto this place to look at an article without being suspected of stealingit, when it disappears through your wretched carelessness? I'll ask mysolicitor, sir, if there isn't a remedy for this sort of thing. And if Icatch another of your spy fellows on my staircase, or crawling about myroof, I'll--I'll shoot him!"

"Really, Mr. Woollett----" began Mr. Claridge, somewhat abashed, but theangry old man would hear nothing. 

"Don't talk to me, sir; you shall talk to my solicitor. And am I tounderstand, my lord"--turning to Lord Stanway--"that these things arebeing done with your approval?"

"Whatever is being done, " Lord Stanway answered, "is being done by thepolice on their own responsibility, and entirely without prompting, Ibelieve, by Mr. Claridge--certainly without a suggestion of any sort frommyself. I think that the personal opinion of Mr. Claridge--certainly myown--is that anything like a suspicion of your position in this wretchedmatter is ridiculous. And if you will only consider the matter calmly----"

"Consider it calmly? Imagine yourself considering such a thing calmly, Lord Stanway. I _won't_ consider it calmly. I'll--I'll--I won't have it. And if I find another man on my roof, I'll pitch him off!" And Mr. Woollett bounced into the street again. 

"Mr. Woollett is annoyed, " Hewitt observed, with a smile. "I'm afraidPlummer has a clumsy assistant somewhere. "

Mr. Claridge said nothing, but looked rather glum, for Mr. Woollett was amost excellent customer. 

Lord Stanwood and Hewitt walked slowly down the street, Hewitt staring atthe pavement in profound thought. Once or twice Lord Stanway glanced athis face, but refrained from disturbing him. Presently, however, heobserved: "You seem, at least, Mr. Hewitt, to have noticed something thathas set you thinking. Does it look like a clue?"

Hewitt came out of his cogitation at once. "A clue?" he said; "the casebristles with clues. The extraordinary thing to me is that Plummer, usually a smart man, doesn't seem to have seen one of them. He must be outof sorts, I'm afraid. But the case is decidedly a most remarkable one. "

"Remarkable in what particular way?"

"In regard to motive. Now it would seem, as Plummer was saying to me justnow on the roof, that there were only two possible motives for such arobbery. Either the man who took all this trouble and risk to break intoClaridge's place must have desired to sell the cameo at a good price, orhe must have desired to keep it for himself, being a lover of such things. But neither of these has been the actual motive. "

"Perhaps he thinks he can extort a good sum from me by way of ransom?"

"No, it isn't that. Nor is it jealousy, nor spite, nor anything of thatkind. I know the motive, I _think_--but I wish we could get hold of Hahn. I will shut myself up alone and turn it over in my mind for half an hourpresently. "

"Meanwhile, what I want to know is, apart from all your professionalsubtleties--which I confess I can't understand--can you get back thecameo?"

"That, " said Hewitt, stopping at the corner of the street, "I am ratherafraid I can not--nor anybody else. But I am pretty sure I know thethief. "

"Then surely that will lead you to the cameo?"

"It _may_, of course; but, then, it is just possible that by this eveningyou may not want to have it back, after all. "

Lord Stanway stared in amazement. 

"Not want to have it back!" he exclaimed. "Why, of course I shall want tohave it back. I don't understand you in the least; you talk in conundrums. Who is the thief you speak of?"

"I think, Lord Stanway, " Hewitt said, "that perhaps I had better not sayuntil I have quite finished my inquiries, in case of mistakes. The case isquite an extraordinary one, and of quite a different character from whatone would at first naturally imagine, and I must be very careful to guardagainst the possibility of error. I have very little fear of a mistake, however, and I hope I may wait on you in a few hours at Piccadilly withnews. I have only to see the policemen. "

"Certainly, come whenever you please. But why see the policemen? They havealready most positively stated that they saw nothing whatever suspiciousin the house or near it. "

"I shall not ask them anything at all about the house, " Hewitt responded. "I shall just have a little chat with them--about the weather. " And with asmiling bow he turned away, while Lord Stanway stood and gazed after him, with an expression that implied a suspicion that his special detective wasmaking a fool of him. 

 * * * * *

In rather more than an hour Hewitt was back in Mr. Claridge's shop. "Mr. Claridge, " he said, "I think I must ask you one or two questions inprivate. May I see you in your own room?"

They went there at once, and Hewitt, pulling a chair before the window, sat down with his back to the light. The dealer shut the door, and satopposite him, with the light full in his face. 

"Mr. Claridge, " Hewitt proceeded slowly, "_when did you first find thatLord Stanway's cameo was a forgery_?"

Claridge literally bounced in his chair. His face paled, but he managed tostammer sharply: "What--what--what d'you mean? Forgery? Do you mean to sayI sell forgeries? Forgery? It wasn't a forgery!"

"Then, " continued Hewitt in the same deliberate tone, watching the other'sface the while, "if it wasn't a forgery, _why did you destroy it and burstyour trap-door and desk to imitate a burglary_?"

The sweat stood thick on the dealer's face, and he gasped. But hestruggled hard to keep his faculties together, and ejaculated hoarsely:"Destroy it? What--what--I didn't--didn't destroy it!"

"Threw it into the river, then--don't prevaricate about details. "

"No--no--it's a lie! Who says that? Go away! You're insulting me!"Claridge almost screamed. 

"Come, come, Mr. Claridge, " Hewitt said more placably, for he had gainedhis point; "don't distress yourself, and don't attempt to deceive me--youcan't, I assure you. I know everything you did before you left here lastnight--everything. "

Claridge's face worked painfully. Once or twice he appeared to be on thepoint of returning an indignant reply, but hesitated, and finally brokedown altogether. 

"Don't expose me, Mr. Hewitt!" he pleaded; "I beg you won't expose me! Ihaven't harmed a soul but myself. I've paid Lord Stanway every penny back, and I never knew the thing was a forgery till I began to clean it. I'm anold man, Mr. Hewitt, and my professional reputation has been spotlessuntil now. I beg you won't expose me. "

Hewitt's voice softened. "Don't make an unnecessary trouble of it, " hesaid. "I see a decanter on your sideboard--let me give you a little brandyand water. Come, there's nothing criminal, I believe, in a man's breakingopen his own desk, or his own trap-door, for that matter. Of course I'macting for Lord Stanway in this affair, and I must, in duty, report to himwithout reserve. But Lord Stanway is a gentleman, and I'll undertake he'lldo nothing inconsiderate of your feelings, if you're disposed to be frank. Let us talk the affair over; tell me about it. "

"It was that swindler Hahn who deceived me in the beginning, " Claridgesaid. "I have never made a mistake with a cameo before, and I neverthought so close an imitation was possible. I examined it most carefully, and was perfectly satisfied, and many experts examined it afterward, andwere all equally deceived. I felt as sure as I possibly could feel that Ihad bought one of the finest, if not actually the finest, cameos known toexist. It was not until after it had come back from Lord Stanway's, and Iwas cleaning it the evening before last, that in course of my work itbecame apparent that the thing was nothing but a consummately cleverforgery. It was made of three layers of molded glass, nothing more norless. But the glass was treated in a way I had never before known of, andthe surface had been cunningly worked on till it defied any ordinaryexamination. Some of the glass imitation cameos made in the latter part ofthe last century, I may tell you, are regarded as marvelous pieces ofwork, and, indeed, command very fair prices, but this was something quitebeyond any of those. 

"I was amazed and horrified. I put the thing away and went home. All thatnight I lay awake in a state of distraction, quite unable to decide whatto do. To let the cameo go out of my possession was impossible. Sooner orlater the forgery would be discovered, and my reputation--the highest inthese matters in this country, I may safely claim, and the growth ofnearly fifty years of honest application and good judgment--thisreputation would be gone forever. But without considering this, there wasthe fact that I had taken five thousand pounds of Lord Stanway's money fora mere piece of glass, and that money I must, in mere common honesty aswell as for my own sake, return. But how? The name of the Stanway Cameohad become a household word, and to confess that the whole thing was asham would ruin my reputation and destroy all confidence--past, present, and future--in me and in my transactions. Either way spelled ruin. Even ifI confided in Lord Stanway privately, returned his money, and destroyedthe cameo, what then? The sudden disappearance of an article so famouswould excite remark at once. It had been presented to the British Museum, and if it never appeared in that collection, and no news were to be got ofit, people would guess at the truth at once. To make it known that Imyself had been deceived would have availed nothing. It is my business_not_ to be deceived; and to have it known that my most expensivespecimens might be forgeries would equally mean ruin, whether I sold themcunningly as a rogue or ignorantly as a fool. Indeed, my pride, myreputation as a connoisseur, is a thing near to my heart, and it would bean unspeakable humiliation to me to have it known that I had been imposedon by such a forgery. What could I do? Every expedient seemed useless butone--the one I adopted. It was not straightforward, I admit; but, oh! Mr. Hewitt, consider the temptation--and remember that it couldn't do a soulany harm. No matter who might be suspected, I knew there could notpossibly be evidence to make them suffer. All the next day--yesterday--Iwas anxiously worrying out the thing in my mind and carefully devisingthe--the trick, I'm afraid you'll call it, that you by some extraordinarymeans have seen through. It seemed the only thing--what else was there?More I needn't tell you; you know it. I have only now to beg that you willuse your best influence with Lord Stanway to save me from public derisionand exposure. I will do anything---pay anything--anything but exposure, atmy age, and with my position. "

"Well, you see, " Hewitt replied thoughtfully, "I've no doubt Lord Stanwaywill show you every consideration, and certainly I will do what I can tosave you in the circumstances; though you must remember that you _have_done some harm--you have caused suspicions to rest on at least one honestman. But as to reputation, I've a professional reputation of my own. If Ihelp to conceal your professional failure, I shall appear to have failedin _my_ part of the business. "

"But the cases are different, Mr. Hewitt. Consider. You are notexpected--it would be impossible--to succeed invariably; and there areonly two or three who know you have looked into the case. Then your otherconspicuous successes----"

"Well, well, we shall see. One thing I don't know, though--whether youclimbed out of a window to break open the trap-door, or whether you got upthrough the trap-door itself and pulled the bolt with a string through thejamb, so as to bolt it after you. "

"There was no available window. I used the string, as you say. My poorlittle cunning must seem very transparent to you, I fear. I spent hours ofthought over the question of the trap-door--how to break it open so as toleave a genuine appearance, and especially how to bolt it inside after Ihad reached the roof. I thought I had succeeded beyond the possibility ofsuspicion; how you penetrated the device surpasses my comprehension. How, to begin with, could you possibly know that the cameo was a forgery? Didyou ever see it?"

"Never. And, if I had seen it, I fear I should never have been able toexpress an opinion on it; I'm not a connoisseur. As a matter of fact, I_didn't_ know that the thing was a forgery in the first place; what I knewin the first place was that it was _you_ who had broken into the house. Itwas from that that I arrived at the conclusion, after a certain amount ofthought, that the cameo must have been forged. Gain was out of thequestion. You, beyond all men, could never sell the Stanway Cameo again, and, besides, you had paid back Lord Stanway's money. I knew enough ofyour reputation to know that you would never incur the scandal of a greattheft at your place for the sake of getting the cameo for yourself, whenyou might have kept it in the beginning, with no trouble and mystery. Consequently I had to look for another motive, and at first another motiveseemed an impossibility. Why should you wish to take all this trouble tolose five thousand pounds? You had nothing to gain; perhaps you hadsomething to save--your professional reputation, for instance. Looking atit so, it was plain that you were _suppressing_ the cameo--burking it;since, once taken as you had taken it, it could never come to light again. That suggested the solution of the mystery at once--you had discovered, after the sale, that the cameo was not genuine. "

"Yes, yes--I see; but you say you began with the knowledge that I brokeinto the place myself. How did you know that? I can not imagine atrace----"

"My dear sir, you left traces everywhere. In the first place, it struck meas curious, before I came here, that you had sent off that check for fivethousand pounds to Lord Stanway an hour or so after the robbery wasdiscovered; it looked so much as though you were sure of the cameo nevercoming back, and were in a hurry to avert suspicion. Of course Iunderstood that, so far as I then knew the case, you were the mostunlikely person in the world, and that your eagerness to repay LordStanway might be the most creditable thing possible. But the point wasworth remembering, and I remembered it. 

"When I came here, I saw suspicious indications in many directions, butthe conclusive piece of evidence was that old hat hanging below thetrap-door. "

"But I never touched it; I assure you, Mr. Hewitt, I never touched thehat; haven't touched it for months----"

"Of course. If you _had_ touched it, I might never have got the clue. Butwe'll deal with the hat presently; that wasn't what struck me at first. The trap-door first took my attention. Consider, now: Here was atrap-door, most insecurely hung on _external_ hinges; the burglar had ascrewdriver, for he took off the door-lock below with it. Why, then, didn't he take this trap off by the hinges, instead of making a noise andtaking longer time and trouble to burst the bolt from its fastenings? Andwhy, if he were a stranger, was he able to plant his jimmy from theoutside just exactly opposite the interior bolt? There was only one markon the frame, and that precisely in the proper place. 

"After that I saw the leather case. It had not been thrown away, or somecorner would have shown signs of the fall. It had been put down carefullywhere it was found. These things, however, were of small importancecompared with the hat. The hat, as you know, was exceedingly thick withdust--the accumulation of months. But, on the top side, presented towardthe trap-door, were a score or so of _raindrop marks_. That was all. Theywere new marks, for there was no dust over them; they had merely had timeto dry and cake the dust they had fallen on. _Now, there had been no rainsince a sharp shower just after seven o'clock last night_. At that timeyou, by your own statement, were in the place. You left at eight, and therain was all over at ten minutes or a quarter past seven. The trap-door, you also told me, had not been opened for months. The thing was plain. You, or somebody who was here when you were, had opened that trap-doorduring, or just before, that shower. I said little then, but went, as soonas I had left, to the police-station. There I made perfectly certain thatthere had been no rain during the night by questioning the policemen whowere on duty outside all the time. There had been none. I knew everything. 

"The only other evidence there was pointed with all the rest. There wereno rain-marks on the leather case; it had been put on the roof as anafter-thought when there was no rain. A very poor after-thought, let metell you, for no thief would throw away a useful case that concealed hisbooty and protected it from breakage, and throw it away just so as toleave a clue as to what direction he had gone in. I also saw, in thelumber-room, a number of packing-cases--one with a label dated two daysback--which had been opened with an iron lever; and yet, when I made anexcuse to ask for it, you said there was no such thing in the place. Inference, you didn't want me to compare it with the marks on the desksand doors. That is all, I think. "

Mr. Claridge looked dolorously down at the floor. "I'm afraid, " he said, "that I took an unsuitable rôle when I undertook to rely on my wits todeceive men like you. I thought there wasn't a single vulnerable spot inmy defense, but you walk calmly through it at the first attempt. Why did Inever think of those raindrops?"

"Come, " said Hewitt, with a smile, "that sounds unrepentant. I am going, now, to Lord Stanway's. If I were you, I think I should apologize to Mr. Woollett in some way. "

Lord Stanway, who, in the hour or two of reflection left him after partingwith Hewitt, had come to the belief that he had employed a man whose mindwas not always in order, received Hewitt's story with naturalastonishment. For some time he was in doubt as to whether he would bedoing right in acquiescing in anything but a straightforward publicstatement of the facts connected with the disappearance of the cameo, butin the end was persuaded to let the affair drop, on receiving an assurancefrom Mr. Woollett that he unreservedly accepted the apology offered him byMr. Claridge. 

As for the latter, he was at least sufficiently punished in loss of moneyand personal humiliation for his escapade. But the bitterest and last blowhe sustained when the unblushing Hahn walked smilingly into his office twodays later to demand the extra payment agreed on in consideration of thesale. He had been called suddenly away, he exclaimed, on the day he shouldhave come, and hoped his missing the appointment had occasioned noinconvenience. As to the robbery of the cameo, of course he was verysorry, but "pishness was pishness, " and he would be glad of a check forthe sum agreed on. And the unhappy Claridge was obliged to pay it, knowingthat the man had swindled him, but unable to open his mouth to say so. 

The reward remained on offer for a long time; indeed, it was neverpublicly withdrawn, I believe, even at the time of Claridge's death. Andseveral intelligent newspapers enlarged upon the fact that an ordinaryburglar had completely baffled and defeated the boasted acumen of Mr. Martin Hewitt, the well-known private detective. 

VII. 

THE AFFAIR OF THE TORTOISE. 

Very often Hewitt was tempted, by the fascination of some particularly oddcase, to neglect his other affairs to follow up a matter that from abusiness point of view was of little or no value to him. As a rule, he hada sufficient regard for his own interests to resist such temptations, butin one curious case, at least, I believe he allowed it largely toinfluence him. It was certainly an extremely odd case--one of thoseaffairs that, coming to light at intervals, but more often remainingunheard of by the general public, convince one that, after all, there isvery little extravagance about Mr. R. L. Stevenson's bizarre imaginings ofdoings in London in his "New Arabian Nights. " "There is nothing in thisworld that is at all possible, " I have often heard Martin Hewitt say, "that has not happened or is not happening in London. " Certainly he hadopportunities of knowing. 

The case I have referred to occurred some time before my own acquaintancewith him began--in 1878, in fact. He had called one Monday morning at anoffice in regard to something connected with one of those uninteresting, though often difficult, cases which formed, perhaps, the bulk of hispractice, when he was informed of a most mysterious murder that had takenplace in another part of the same building on the previous Saturdayafternoon. Owing to the circumstances of the case, only the vaguestaccount had appeared in the morning papers, and even this, as it chanced, Hewitt had not read. 

The building was one of a new row in a partly rebuilt street near theNational Gallery. The whole row had been built by a speculator for thepurpose of letting out in flats, suites of chambers, and in one or twocases, on the ground floors, offices. The rooms had let very well, and todesirable tenants, as a rule. The least satisfactory tenant, theproprietor reluctantly admitted, was a Mr. Rameau, a negro gentleman, single, who had three rooms on the top floor but one of the particularbuilding that Hewitt was visiting. His rent was paid regularly, but hisbehavior had produced complaints from other tenants. He got uproariouslydrunk, and screamed and howled in unknown tongues. He fell asleep on thestaircase, and ladies were afraid to pass. He bawled rough chaff down thestairs and along the corridors at butcher-boys and messengers, and playedon errand-boys brutal practical jokes that ended in police-courtsummonses. He once had a way of sliding down the balusters, shouting: "Ho!ho! ho! yah!" as he went, but as he was a big, heavy man, and thebalusters had been built for different treatment, he had very soon andvery firmly been requested to stop it. He had plenty of money, and spentit freely; but it was generally felt that there was too much of thelight-hearted savage about him to fit him to live among quiet people. 

How much longer the landlord would have stood this sort of thing, Hewitt'sinformant said, was a matter of conjecture, for on the Saturday afternoonin question the tenancy had come to a startling full-stop. Rameau had beenmurdered in his room, and the body had, in the most unaccountable fashion, been secretly removed from the premises. 

The strongest possible suspicion pointed to a man who had been employed inshoveling and carrying coals, cleaning windows, and chopping wood forseveral of the buildings, and who had left that very Saturday. The crimehad, in fact, been committed with this man's chopper, and the man himselfhad been heard, again and again, to threaten Ramean, who, in his brutalfashion, had made a butt of him. This man was a Frenchman, Victor Goujonby name, who had lost his employment as a watchmaker by reason of aninjury to his right hand, which destroyed its steadiness, and so he hadfallen upon evil days and odd jobs. 

He was a little man of no great strength, but extraordinarily excitable, and the coarse gibes and horse-play of the big negro drove him almost tomadness. Rameau would often, after some more than ordinarily outrageousattack, contemptuously fling Goujon a shilling, which the littleFrenchman, although wanting a shilling badly enough, would hurl back inhis face, almost weeping with impotent rage. "Pig! _Canaille_!" he wouldscream. "Dirty pig of Africa! Take your sheelin' to vere you 'ave stoleit! _Voleur_! Pig!"

There was a tortoise living in the basement, of which Goujon had maderather a pet, and the negro would sometimes use this animal as a missile, flinging it at the little Frenchman's head. On one such occasion thetortoise struck the wall so forcibly as to break its shell, and thenGoujon seized a shovel and rushed at his tormentor with such blind furythat the latter made a bolt of it. These were but a few of the passagesbetween Rameau and the fuel-porter, but they illustrate the state offeeling between them. 

Goujon, after correspondence with a relative in France who offered himwork, gave notice to leave, which expired on the day of the crime. Atabout three that afternoon a housemaid, proceeding toward Rameau's rooms, met Goujon as he was going away. Goujon bade her good-by, and, pointing inthe direction of Rameau's rooms, said exultantly: "Dere shall be no moreof the black pig for me; vit 'im I 'ave done for. Zut! I mock me of 'im!'E vill never _tracasser_ me no more. " And he went away. 

The girl went to the outer door of Rameau's rooms, knocked, and got noreply. Concluding that the tenant was out, she was about to use her keys, when she found that the door was unlocked. She passed through the lobbyand into the sitting-room, and there fell in a dead faint at the sightthat met her eyes. Rameau lay with his back across the sofa and hishead--drooping within an inch of the ground. On the head was a fearfulgash, and below it was a pool of blood. 

The girl must have lain unconscious for about ten minutes. When she cameto her senses, she dragged herself, terrified, from the room and up to thehousekeeper's apartments, where, being an excitable and nervous creature, she only screamed "Murder!" and immediately fell in a fit of hystericsthat lasted three-quarters of an hour. When at last she came to herself, she told her story, and, the hall-porter having been summoned, Rameau'srooms were again approached. 

The blood still lay on the floor, and the chopper, with which the crimehad evidently been committed, rested against the fender; but the body hadvanished! A search was at once made, but no trace of it could be seenanywhere. It seemed impossible that it could have been carried out of thebuilding, for the hall-porter must at once have noticed anybody leavingwith so bulky a burden. Still, in the building it was not to be found. 

When Hewitt was informed of these things on Monday, the police were, ofcourse, still in possession of Rameau's rooms. Inspector Nettings, Hewittwas told, was in charge of the case, and as the inspector was anacquaintance of his, and was then in the rooms upstairs, Hewitt went up tosee him. 

Nettings was pleased to see Hewitt, and invited him to look around therooms. "Perhaps you can spot something we have overlooked, " he said. "Though it's not a case there can be much doubt about. "

"You think it's Goujon, don't you?"

"Think? Well, rather! Look here! As soon as we got here on Saturday, wefound this piece of paper and pin on the floor. We showed it to thehousemaid, and then she remembered--she was too much upset to think of itbefore--that when she was in the room the paper was laying on the deadman's chest--pinned there, evidently. It must have dropped off when theyremoved the body. It's a case of half-mad revenge on Goujon's part, plainly. See it; you read French, don't you?"

The paper was a plain, large half-sheet of note-paper, on which a sentencein French was scrawled in red ink in a large, clumsy hand, thus:

 _puni par un vengeur de la tortue_. 

"_Puni par un vengeur de la tortue_, " Hewitt repeated musingly. "'Punishedby an avenger of the tortoise, ' That seems odd. "

"Well, rather odd. But you understand the reference, of course. Have theytold you about Rameau's treatment of Goujon's pet tortoise?"

"I think it was mentioned among his other pranks. But this is an extremerevenge for a thing of that sort, and a queer way of announcing it. "

"Oh, he's mad--mad with Rameau's continual ragging and baiting, " Nettingsanswered. "Anyway, this is a plain indication--plain as though he'd lefthis own signature. Besides, it's in his own language--French. And there'shis chopper, too. "

"Speaking of signatures, " Hewitt remarked, "perhaps you have alreadycompared this with other specimens of Goujon's writing?"

"I did think of it, but they don't seem to have a specimen to hand, and, anyway, it doesn't seem very important. There's 'avenger of the tortoise'plain enough, in the man's own language, and that tells everything. Besides, handwritings are easily disguised. "

"Have you got Goujon?"

"Well, no; we haven't. There seems to be some little difficulty aboutthat. But I expect to have him by this time to-morrow. Here comes Mr. Styles, the landlord. "

Mr. Styles was a thin, querulous, and withered-looking little man, whotwitched his eyebrows as he spoke, and spoke in short, jerky phrases. 

"No news, eh, inspector, eh? eh? Found out nothing else, eh? Terriblething for my property--terrible! Who's your friend?"

Nettings introduced Hewitt. 

"Shocking thing this, eh, Mr. Hewitt? Terrible! Comes of having anythingto do with these blood-thirsty foreigners, eh? New buildings andall--character ruined. No one come to live here now, eh? Tenants--noisyniggers--murdered by my own servants--terrible! _You_ formed any opinion, eh?"

"I dare say I might if I went into the case. "

"Yes, yes--same opinion as inspector's, eh? I mean an opinion of yourown?" The old man scrutinized Hewitt's face sharply. 

"If you'd like me to look into the matter----" Hewitt began. 

"Eh? Oh, look into it! Well, I can't commission you, you know--matter forthe police. Mischief's done. Police doing very well, I think--must beGoujon. But look about the place, certainly, if you like. If you seeanything likely to serve _my_ interests, tell me, and--and--perhaps I'llemploy you, eh, eh? Good-afternoon. "

The landlord vanished, and the inspector laughed. "Likes to see what he'sbuying, does Mr. Styles, " he said. 

Hewitt's first impulse was to walk out of the place at once. But hisinterest in the case had been roused, and he determined, at any rate, toexamine the rooms, and this he did very minutely. By the side of the lobbywas a bath-room, and in this was fitted a tip-up wash-basin, which Hewittinspected with particular attention. Then he called the housekeeper, andmade inquiries about Rameau's clothes and linen. The housekeeper couldgive no idea of how many overcoats or how much linen he had had. He hadall a negro's love of display, and was continually buying new clothes, which, indeed, were lying, hanging, littering, and choking up the bedroomin all directions. The housekeeper, however, on Hewitt's inquiring aftersuch a garment in particular, did remember one heavy black ulster, whichRameau had very rarely worn--only in the coldest weather. 

"After the body was discovered, " Hewitt asked the housekeeper, "was anystranger observed about the place--whether carrying anything or not?"

"No, sir, " the housekeeper replied. "There's been particular inquiriesabout that. Of course, after we knew what was wrong and the body was gone, nobody was seen, or he'd have been stopped. But the hall-porter says he'scertain no stranger came or went for half an hour or more before that--thetime about when the housemaid saw the body and fainted. "

At this moment a clerk from the landlord's office arrived and handedNettings a paper. "Here you are, " said Nettings to Hewitt; "they've founda specimen of Goujon's handwriting at last, if you'd like to see it. Idon't want it; I'm not a graphologist, and the case is clear enough for meanyway. "

Hewitt took the paper. "This" he said, "is a different sort of handwritingfrom that on the paper. The red-ink note about the avenger of the tortoiseis in a crude, large, clumsy, untaught style of writing. This is small, neat, and well formed--except that it is a trifle shaky, probably becauseof the hand injury. "

"That's nothing, " contended Nettings. "handwriting clues are worse thanuseless, as a rule. It's so easy to disguise and imitate writing; andbesides, if Goujon is such a good penman as you seem to say, why, he couldall the easier alter his style. Say now yourself, can any fiddlingquestion of handwriting get over this thing about 'avenging thetortoise'--practically a written confession--to say nothing of thechopper, and what he said to the housemaid as he left?"

"Well, " said Hewitt, "perhaps not; but we'll see. Meantime"--turning tothe landlord's clerk--"possibly you will be good enough to tell me one ortwo things. First, what was Goujon's character?"

"Excellent, as far as we know. We never had a complaint about him exceptfor little matters of carelessness--leaving coal-scuttles on thestaircases for people to fall over, losing shovels, and so on. He wascertainly a bit careless, but, as far as we could see, quite a decentlittle fellow. One would never have thought him capable of committingmurder for the sake of a tortoise, though he was rather fond of theanimal. "

"The tortoise is dead now, I understand?"

"Yes. "

"Have you a lift in this building?"

"Only for coals and heavy parcels. Goujon used to work it, sometimes goingup and down in it himself with coals, and so on; it goes into thebasement. "

"And are the coals kept under this building?"

"No. The store for the whole row is under the next two houses--thebasements communicate. "

"Do you know Rameau's other name?"

"César Rameau he signed in our agreement. "

"Did he ever mention his relations?"

"No. That is to say, he did say something one day when he was very drunk;but, of course, it was all rot. Some one told him not to make such arow--he was a beastly tenant--and he said he was the best man in theplace, and his brother was Prime Minister, and all sorts of things. Meredrunken rant! I never heard of his saying anything sensible aboutrelations. We know nothing of his connections; he came here on a banker'sreference. "

"Thanks. I think that's all I want to ask. You notice, " Hewitt proceeded, turning to Nettings, "the only ink in this place is scented and violet, andthe only paper is tinted and scented, too, with a monogram--characteristicof a negro with money. The paper that was pinned on Rameau's breast isin red ink on common and rather grubby paper, therefore it was writtensomewhere else and brought here. Inference, premeditation. "

"Yes, yes. But are you an inch nearer with all these speculations? Can youget nearer than I am now without them?"

"Well, perhaps not, " Hewitt replied. "I don't profess at this moment toknow the criminal; you do. I'll concede you that point for the present. But you don't offer an opinion as to who removed Rameau's body--which Ithink I know. "

"Who was it, then?"

"Come, try and guess that yourself. It wasn't Goujon; I don't mind lettingyou know that. But it was a person quite within your knowledge of thecase. You've mentioned the person's name more than once. "

Nettings stared blankly. "I don't understand you in the least, " he said. "But, of course, you mean that this mysterious person you speak of ashaving moved the body committed the murder?"

"No, I don't. Nobody could have been more innocent of that. "

"Well, " Nettings concluded with resignation, "I'm afraid one of us israther thick-headed. What will you do?"

"Interview the person who took away the body, " Hewitt replied, with asmile. 

"But, man alive, why? Why bother about the person if it isn't thecriminal?"

"Never mind--never mind; probably the person will be a most valuablewitness. "

"Do you mean you think this person--whoever it is--saw the crime?"

"I think it very probable indeed. "

"Well, I won't ask you any more. I shall get hold of Goujon; that's simpleand direct enough for me. I prefer to deal with the heart of the case--themurder itself--when there's such clear evidence as I have. "

"I shall look a little into that, too, perhaps, " Hewitt said, "and, if youlike, I'll tell you the first thing I shall do. "

"What's that?"

"I shall have a good look at a map of the West Indies, and I advise you todo the same. Good-morning. "

Nettings stared down the corridor after Hewitt, and continued staring fornearly two minutes after he had disappeared. Then he said to the clerk, who had remained: "What was he talking about?"

"Don't know, " replied the clerk. "Couldn't make head nor tail of it. "

"I don't believe there _is_ a head to it, " declared Nettings; "nor a taileither. He's kidding us. "

 * * * * *

Nettings was better than his word, for within two hours of hisconversation with Hewitt, Goujon was captured and safe in a cab bound forBow Street. He had been stopped at Newhaven in the morning on his way toDieppe, and was brought back to London. But now Nettings met a check. 

Late that afternoon he called on Hewitt to explain matters. "We've gotGoujon, " he said, gloomily, "but there's a difficulty. He's got twofriends who can swear an _alibi_. Rameau was seen alive at half-past oneon Saturday, and the girl found him dead about three. Now, Goujon's twofriends, it seems, were with him from one o'clock till four in theafternoon, with the exception of five minutes when the girl saw him, andthen he left them to take a key or something to the housekeeper beforefinally leaving. They were waiting on the landing below when Goujon spoketo the housemaid, heard him speaking, and had seen him go all the way upto the housekeeper's room and back, as they looked up the wide well of thestaircase. They are men employed near the place, and seem to have goodcharacters. But perhaps we shall find something unfavorable about them. They were drinking with Goujon, it seems, by way of 'seeing him off. '"

"Well, " Hewitt said, "I scarcely think you need trouble to damage thesemen's characters. They are probably telling the truth. Come, now, beplain. You've come here to get a hint as to whether my theory of the casehelps you, haven't you?"

"Well, if you can give me a friendly hint, although, of course, I may beright, after all. Still, I wish you'd explain a bit as to what you meantby looking at a map and all that mystery. Nice thing for me to be taking alesson in my own business after all these years! But perhaps I deserveit. "

"See, now, " quoth Hewitt, "you remember what map I told you to look at?"

"The West Indies. "

"Right! Well, here you are. " Hewitt reached an atlas from his book-shelf. "Now, look here: the biggest island of the lot on this map, barring Cuba, is Hayti. You know as well as I do that the western part of that island ispeopled by the black republic of Hayti, and that the country is in adegenerate state of almost unexampled savagery, with a ridiculous show ofcivilization. There are revolutions all the time; the South Americanrepublics are peaceful and prosperous compared to Hayti. The state of thecountry is simply awful--read Sir Spenser St. John's book on it. Presidentafter president of the vilest sort forces his way to power and commits themost horrible and bloodthirsty excesses, murdering his opponents by thehundred and seizing their property for himself and his satellites, who areusually as bad, if not worse, than the president himself. Wholefamilies--men, women, and children--are murdered at the instance of theseruffians, and, as a consequence, the most deadly feuds spring up, and thepresidents and their followers are always themselves in danger ofreprisals from others. Perhaps the very worst of these presidents inrecent times has been the notorious Domingue, who was overthrown by aninsurrection, as they all are sooner or later, and compelled to fly thecountry. Domingue and his nephews, one of whom was Chief Minister, whilein power committed the cruellest bloodshed, and many members of theopposite party sought refuge in a small island lying just to the north ofHayti, but were sought out there and almost exterminated. Now, I will showyou that island on the map. What is its name?"

"Tortuga. "

"It is. 'Tortuga, ' however, is only the old Spanish name; the Haytiansspeak French--Creole French. Here is a French atlas: now see the name ofthat island. "

"La Tortue!"

"La Tortue it is--the tortoise. Tortuga means the same thing in Spanish. But that island is always spoken of in Hayti as La Tortue. Now, do you seethe drift of that paper pinned to Rameau's breast?"

"Punished by an avenger of--or from--the tortoise or La Tortue--clearenough. It would seem that the dead man had something to do with themassacre there, and somebody from the island is avenging it. The thing'smost extraordinary. "

"And now listen. The name of Domingue's nephew, who was Chief Minister, was _Septimus Rameau_. "

"And this was César Rameau--his brother, probably. I see. Well, this _is_a case. "

"I think the relationship probable. Now you understand why I was inclinedto doubt that Goujon was the man you wanted. "

"Of course, of course! And now I suppose I must try to get a nigger--thechap who wrote that paper. I wish he hadn't been such an ignorant nigger. If he'd only have put the capitals to the words 'La Tortue, ' I might havethought a little more about them, instead of taking it for granted thatthey meant that wretched tortoise in the basement of the house. Well, I'vemade a fool of a start, but I'll be after that nigger now. "

"And I, as I said before, " said Hewitt, "shall be after the person thatcarried off Rameau's body. I have had something else to do this afternoon, or I should have begun already. "

"You said you thought he saw the crime. How did you judge that?"

Hewitt smiled. "I think I'll keep that little secret to myself for thepresent, " he said. "You shall know soon. "

"Very well, " Nettings replied, with resignation. "I suppose I mustn'tgrumble if you don't tell me everything. I feel too great a foolaltogether over this case to see any farther than you show me. " AndInspector Nettings left on his search; while Martin Hewitt, as soon as hewas alone, laughed joyously and slapped his thigh. 

 * * * * *

There was a cab-rank and shelter at the end of the street where Mr. Styles' building stood, and early that evening a man approached it andhailed the cabmen and the waterman. Any one would have known the new-comerat once for a cabman taking a holiday. The brim of the hat, the bird's-eyeneckerchief, the immense coat-buttons, and, more than all, the rollingwalk and the wrinkled trousers, marked him out distinctly. 

"Watcheer!" he exclaimed, affably, with the self-possessed nod onlypossible to cabbies and 'busmen. "I'm a-lookin' for a bilker. I'm told oneo' the blokes off this rank carried 'im last Saturday, and I want to knowwhere he went. I ain't 'ad a chance o' gettin' 'is address yet. Took a cabjust as it got dark, I'm told. Tallish chap, muffled up a lot, in a longblack overcoat. Any of ye seen 'im?"

The cabbies looked at one another and shook their heads; it chanced thatnone of them had been on that particular rank at that time. But thewaterman said: "'Old on--I bet 'e's the bloke wot old Bill Stammers took. Yorkey was fust on the rank, but the bloke wouldn't 'ave a 'ansom--wanteda four-wheeler, so old Bill took 'im. Biggish chap in a long black coat, collar up an' muffled thick; soft wide-awake 'at, pulled over 'is eyes;and he was in a 'urry, too. Jumped in sharp as a weasel. "

"Didn't see 'is face, did ye?"

"No--not an inch of it; too much muffled. Couldn't tell if he 'ad a face. "

"Was his arm in a sling?"

"Ay, it looked so. Had it stuffed through the breast of his coat, like asthough there might be a sling inside. "

"That's 'im. Any of ye tell me where I might run across old Bill Stammers?He'll tell me where my precious bilker went to. "

As to this there was plenty of information, and in five minutes MartinHewitt, who had become an unoccupied cabman for the occasion, was on hisway to find old Bill Stammers. That respectable old man gave him fullparticulars as to the place in the East End where he had driven hismuffled fare on Saturday, and Hewitt then begun an eighteen, or twentyhours' search beyond Whitechapel. 

 * * * * *

At about three on Tuesday afternoon, as Nettings was in the act of leavingBow Street Police Station, Hewitt drove up in a four-wheeler. Someprisoner appeared to be crouching low in the vehicle, but, leaving him totake care of himself, Hewitt hurried into the station and shook Nettingsby the hand. "Well, " he said, "have you got the murderer of Rameau yet?"

"No, " Nettings growled. "Unless--well, Goujon's under remand still, and, after all, I've been thinking that he may know something----"

"Pooh, nonsense!" Hewitt answered. "You'd better let him go. Now, I _have_got somebody. " Hewitt laughed and slapped the inspector's shoulder. "I'vegot the man who carried Rameau's body away!"

"The deuce you have! Where? Bring him in. We must have him----"

"All right, don't be in a hurry; he won't bolt. " And Hewitt stepped out tothe cab and produced his prisoner, who, pulling his hat farther over hiseyes, hurried furtively into the station. One hand was stowed in thebreast of his long coat, and below the wide brim of his hat a small pieceof white bandage could be seen; and, as he lifted his face, it was seen tobe that of a negro. 

"Inspector Nettings, " Hewitt said ceremoniously, "allow me to introduceMr. César Rameau!"

Netting's gasped. 

"What!" he at length ejaculated. "What! You--you're Rameau?"

The negro looked round nervously, and shrank farther from the door. 

"Yes, " he said; "but please not so loud--please not loud. Zey may be near, and I'm 'fraid. "

"You will certify, will you not, " asked Hewitt, with malicious glee, "notonly that you were not murdered last Saturday by Victor Goujon, but that, in fact, you were not murdered at all? Also, that you carried your ownbody away in the usual fashion, on your own legs. "

"Yes, yes, " responded Rameau, looking haggardly about; "but is notzis--zis room publique? I should not be seen. "

"Nonsense!" replied Hewitt rather testily; "you exaggerate your danger andyour own importance, and your enemies' abilities as well. You're safeenough. "

"I suppose, then, " Nettings remarked slowly, like a man on whose mindsomething vast was beginning to dawn, "I suppose--why, hang it, you musthave just got up while that fool of a girl was screaming and faintingupstairs, and walked out. They say there's nothing so hard as a nigger'sskull, and yours has certainly made a fool of me. But, then, _somebody_must have chopped you over the head; who was it?"

"My enemies--my great enemies--enemies politique. I am a great man"--thiswith a faint revival of vanity amid his fear--"a great man in my countree. Zey have great secret club-sieties to kill me--me and my fren's; and oneenemy coming in my rooms does zis--one, two"--he indicated wrist andhead--"wiz a choppa. "

Rameau made the case plain to Nettings, so far as the actual circumstancesof the assault on himself were concerned. A negro whom he had noticed nearthe place more than once during the previous day or two had attacked himsuddenly in his rooms, dealing him two savage blows with a chopper. Thefirst he had caught on his wrist, which was seriously damaged, as well asexcruciatingly painful, but the second had taken effect on his head. Hisassailant had evidently gone away then, leaving him for dead; but, as amatter of fact, he was only stunned by the shock, and had, thanks to theadamantine thickness of the negro skull and the ill-direction of thechopper, only a very bad scalp-wound, the bone being no more than grazed. He had lain insensible for some time, and must have come to his sensessoon after the housemaid had left the room. Terrified at the knowledgethat his enemies had found him out, his only thought was to get away andhide himself. He hastily washed and tied up his head, enveloped himself inthe biggest coat he could find, and let himself down into the basement bythe coal-lift, for fear of observation. He waited in the basement of oneof the adjoining buildings till dark and then got away in a cab, with theidea of hiding himself in the East End. He had had very little money withhim on his flight, and it was by reason of this circumstance that Hewitt, when he found him, had prevailed on him to leave his hiding-place, sinceit would be impossible for him to touch any of the large sums of money inthe keeping of his bank so long as he was supposed to be dead. With muchdifficulty, and the promise of ample police protection, he was at lastconvinced that it would be safe to declare himself and get his property, and then run away and hide wherever he pleased. 

Nettings and Hewitt strolled off together for a few minutes and chatted, leaving the wretched Rameau to cower in a corner among several policemen. 

"Well, Mr. Hewitt, " Nettings said, "this case has certainly been ashocking beating for me. I must have been as blind as a bat when I startedon it. And yet I don't see that you had a deal to go on, even now. Whatstruck you first?"

"Well, in the beginning it seemed rather odd to me that the body shouldhave been taken away, as I had been told it was, after the written paperhad been pinned on it. Why should the murderer pin a label on the body ofhis victim if he meant carrying that body away? Who would read the labeland learn of the nature of the revenge gratified? Plainly, that indicatedthat the person who had carried away the body was _not_ the person who hadcommitted the murder. But as soon as I began to examine the place I sawthe probability that there was no murder, after all. There were any numberof indications of this fact, and I can't understand your not observingthem. First, although there was a good deal of blood on the floor justbelow where the housemaid had seen Rameau lying, there was none betweenthat place and the door. Now, if the body had been dragged, or evencarried, to the door, blood must have become smeared about the floor, orat least there would have been drops, but there were none, and this seemedto hint that the corpse might have come to itself, sat up on the sofa, stanched the wound, and walked out. I reflected at once that Rameau was afull-blooded negro, and that a negro's head is very nearly invulnerable toanything short of bullets. Then, if the body had been dragged out--as sucha heavy body must have been--almost of necessity the carpet and rugs wouldshow signs of the fact, but there were no such signs. But beyond thesethere was the fact that no long black overcoat was left with the otherclothes, although the housekeeper distinctly remembered Rameau'spossession of such a garment. I judged he would use some such thing toassist his disguise, which was why I asked her. _Why_ he would want todisguise was plain, as you shall see presently. There were no towels leftin the bath-room; inference, used for bandages. Everything seemed to showthat the only person responsible for Rameau's removal was Rameau himself. Why, then, had he gone away secretly and hurriedly, without makingcomplaint, and why had he stayed away? What reason would he have for doingthis if it had been Goujon that had attacked him? None. Goujon was goingto France. Clearly, Rameau was afraid of another attack from someimplacable enemy whom he was anxious to avoid--one against whom he fearedlegal complaint or defense would be useless. This brought me at once tothe paper found on the floor. If this were the work of Goujon and an openreference to his tortoise, why should he be at such pains to disguise hishandwriting? He would have been already pointing himself out by the meremention of the tortoise. And, if he could not avoid a shake in hisnatural, small handwriting, how could he have avoided it in a large, clumsy, slowly drawn, assumed hand? No, the paper was not Goujon's. "

"As to the writing on the paper, " Nettings interposed, "I've told you howI made that mistake. I took the readiest explanation of the words, sincethey seemed so pat, and I wouldn't let anything else outweigh that. As tothe other things--the evidences of Rameau's having gone off byhimself--well, I don't usually miss such obvious things; but I neverthought of the possibility of the _victim_ going away on the quiet and notcoming back, as though _he'd_ done something wrong. Comes of starting witha set of fixed notions. "

"Well, " answered Hewitt, "I fancy you must have been rather 'out of form, 'as they say; everybody has his stupid days, and you can't keep up toconcert pitch forever. To return to the case. The evidence of the chopperwas very untrustworthy, especially when I had heard of Goujon's carelesshabits--losing shovels and leaving coal-scuttles on stairs. Nothing morelikely than for the chopper to be left lying about, and a criminal who hadcalculated his chances would know the advantage to himself of using aweapon that belonged to the place, and leaving it behind to divertsuspicion. It is quite possible, by the way, that the man who attackedRameau got away down the coal-lift and out by an adjoining basement, justas did Rameau himself; this, however, is mere conjecture. The would-bemurderer had plainly prepared for the crime: witness the previouspreparation of the paper declaring his revenge, an indication of his prideat having run his enemy to earth at such a distant place as this--althoughI expect he was only in England by chance, for Haytians are not apersistently energetic race. In regard to the use of small instead ofcapital letters in the words 'La Tortue' on the paper, I observed, in thebeginning, that the first letter of the whole sentence--the 'p' in'puni'--was a small one. Clearly, the writer was an illiterate man, and itwas at once plain that he may have made the same mistake with ensuingwords. 

"On the whole, it was plain that everybody had begun with a too readydisposition to assume that Goujon was guilty. Everybody insisted, too, that the body had been carried away--which was true, of course, althoughnot in the sense intended--so I didn't trouble to contradict, or to saymore than that I guessed who _had_ carried the body off. And, to tell youthe truth, I was a little piqued at Mr. Styles' manner, and indisposed, interested in the case as I was, to give away my theories too freely. 

"The rest of the job was not very difficult. I found out the cabman whohad taken Rameau away--you can always get readier help from cabbies if yougo as one of themselves, especially if you are after a bilker--and fromhim got a sufficiently near East End direction to find Rameau afterinquiries. I ventured, by the way, on a rather long shot. I described myman to the cabman as having an injured arm or wrist--and it turned out acorrect guess. You see, a man making an attack with a chopper is prettycertain to make more than a single blow, and as there appeared to havebeen only a single wound on the head, it seemed probable that another hadfallen somewhere else--almost certainly on the arm, as it would be raisedto defend the head. At Limehouse I found he had had his head and wristattended to at a local medico's, and a big nigger in a fright, with a longblack coat, a broken head, and a lame hand, is not so difficult to find ina small area. How I persuaded him up here you know already; I think Ifrightened him a little, too, by explaining how easily I had tracked him, and giving him a hint that others might do the same. He is in a greatfunk. He seems to have quite lost faith in England as a safe asylum. "

The police failed to catch Rameau's assailant--chiefly because Rameaucould not be got to give a proper description of him, nor to do anythingexcept get out of the country in a hurry. In truth, he was glad to be quitof the matter with nothing worse than his broken head. Little Goujon madea wild storm about his arrest, and before he did go to France managed toextract twenty pounds from Rameau by way of compensation, in spite of theabsence of any strictly legal claim against his old tormentor. So that, onthe whole, Goujon was about the only person who derived any particularprofit from the tortoise mystery. 

THE END.