Inspector Jacks asked.

"Bless you, no!" Mr. Coulson replied, brushing his hair
vigorously. "It never entered into my head to ask him, and I
never heard him mention it. I only know that he was a
quiet-living, decent sort of a chap, but, as I put it to our
young friend the newspaper man, he was a crank."

The Inspector was disappointed. He began to feel that he was
wasting his time.

"Did you know anything of the object of his journey to Europe?"
he asked.

"Nary a thing," Mr. Coulson declared. "He only came on deck once
or twice, and he had scarcely a civil word even for me. Why, I
tell you, sir," Mr. Coulson continued, "if he saw me coming along
on the promenade, he'd turn round and go the other way, for fear
I'd ask him to come and have a drink. A c-r-a-n-k, sir! You write
it down at that, and you won't be far out."

"He certainly seems to have been a queer lot," the Inspector
declared. "By the bye," he continued, "you said something, I
believe, about his having had more money with him than was found
upon his person."

"That's so," Mr. Coulson admitted. "I know he deposited a
pocketbook with the purser, and I happened to be standing by when
he received it back. I noticed that he had three or four
thousand-dollar bills, and there didn't seem to be anything of