your face; but a squint is a squint. There's no faking a swivel eye."

Thorndyke laughed softly. "I suppose not; unless, perhaps, some one
might invent an adjustable glass eye. Are these the keys?"

"Yes, sir. The large one belongs to the wicket in the front gate. The
other is the latch-key belonging to the side door. Mrs. Shallybang has
the key of the front door."

"Thank you," said Thorndyke. He took the keys, to which a wooden label
was attached, and we made our way back towards the house of mystery,
discussing the clerk's statements as we went.

"A very communicable young gentleman, that," Thorndyke remarked. "He
seemed quite pleased to relieve the monotony of office work with a
little conversation. And I am sure I was very delighted to indulge him."

"He hadn't much to tell, all the same," said I.

Thorndyke looked at me in surprise. "I don't know what you would have,
Jervis, unless you expect casual strangers to present you with a
ready-made body of evidence, fully classified, with all the inferences
and implications stated. It seemed to me that he was a highly
instructive young man."

"What did you learn from him?" I asked.

"Oh, come, Jervis," he protested; "is that a fair question, under our
present arrangement? However, I will mention a few points. We learn that
about six or seven months ago, Mr. H. Weiss dropped from the clouds into