Tombs before he's a week older. No offence, Mr. Jacks."

"I am not taking any, Mr. Coulson," the Inspector answered. "I
must admit that there's a great deal of truth in what you say. It
is rather a reflection upon us that we have not as yet even made
an arrest, but I think you will also admit that the circumstances
of those murders were exceedingly curious."

Mr. Coulson knocked the ash from his cigar.

"Well, as to that," he said, "and if we are to judge only by what
we read in the papers, they are curious, without a doubt. But I
am not supposing for one moment that you fellows at Scotland Yard
don't know more than you've let on to the newspapers. You keep
your discoveries out of the Press over here, and a good job, too,
but you wouldn't persuade me that you haven't some very distinct
theory as to how that crime was worked, and the sort of person
who did it. Eh, Mr. Jacks?"

"We are perhaps not quite so ignorant as we seem," the Inspector
answered, "and of course you are right when you say that we have
a few more facts to go by than have appeared in the newspapers.
Still, the affair is an extremely puzzling one,--as puzzling, in
its way," Mr. Jacks continued, "as the murder on the very next
evening of this young American gentleman."

Mr. Coulson nodded sympathetically. The drinks were brought, and
he raised his glass to his guest.

"Here's luck!" he said--"luck to you with your game of human