other man ever was, and in spite of this has been able to keep in
correspondence with his accomplices. And, gentlemen, he has done it
not through the mails, not over the telephone, not by telegraph, and
yet he has done it."

"By wireless, perhaps?" suggested Mr. Czenki. It was the first time
he had spoken, and the detective took occasion then and there to stare
at him frankly.

"And not by wireless," he said at last. "He sends and receives
messages from the roof of his house in Thirty-seventh Street by
homing pigeons!"

"Some more fandastics, eh, Laadham?" Mr. Schultze taunted. "Some
more chimericals?"

"I demonstrate this much by the close watch I have kept of Mr. Wynne,"
the detective went on, there being no response to his questioning look
at Mr. Schultze. "One of my agents, stationed on the roof of the
house adjoining Mr. Wynne's" (it was the maid-servant next door) "has,
on at least one occasion, seen him remove a tissue-paper strip from a
carrier pigeon's leg and read what was written on it, after which he
kissed it, gentlemen, kissed it; then he destroyed it. What did it
mean? It means that that particular message was from the girl to whom
he transferred the diamonds in the cab, and that he is madly in love
with her."

"Oh, dese wimmins! I dell you!" commented Mr. Schultze.

There was a little pause, then Mr. Birnes continued impressively: