"Well," he said, "I don't know that there was anything definite
in my mind, only it seems a little strange that you and Miss
Penelope Morse should both have been acquainted with the murdered
man and that you should have come across one another."

"Sort of bond between us, eh?" Mr. Coulson replied. "She seemed a
very charming young lady. Cut above Fynes, I should think."

The detective smiled.

"All your American young ladies who come over here are charming,"
he said. "Goodbye, Mr. Coulson, and many thanks!"

The Inspector passed out, and the man whom he had come to visit,
after a moment's hesitation, resumed his seat.

"These aren't American methods," he muttered to himself. "I don't
understand them. That man Jacks is either a simpleton or he is
too cunning for me."

He crossed to a writing table and scribbled an unnecessary note,
addressing it to a firm in the city. Then he rang for a messenger
boy and handed it to him for delivery. A few minutes afterwards
he strolled out into the hall. The boy was in the act of handing
the note to one of the head porters, who carefully copied the
address. Mr. Coulson returned to the smoking room, whistling
softly to himself.