on to the table with a violent gesture.

"We have been asleep!" he exclaimed. "Gaston Max of the Paris Service
has been at work in London for a month, and we didn't know it!"

"Gaston Max!" cried Start--"then it must be a big case indeed."

As a student of criminology the name of the celebrated Frenchman was
familiar to him as that of the foremost criminal investigator in
Europe, and he found himself staring at the fragment of gold with a new
and keener interest.

"Poor chap," continued Dunbar--"it was his last. The body brought in
from Hanover Hole has been identified as his."

"What! it is the body of Gaston Max!"

"Paris has just wired that Max's reports ceased over a week ago. He
was working on the case of Sir Frank Narcombe, it seems, and I never
knew! But I predicted a long time ago that Max would play the
lone-hand game once too often. They sent particulars. The
identification disk is his. Oh! there's no doubt about it,
unfortunately. The dead man's face is unrecognizable, but it's not
likely there are two disks of that sort bearing the initials G.M. and
the number 49685. I'm going along now. Should you care to come,
doctor?"

"I am expecting a patient, Inspector," replied Stuart--"er--a special
case. But I hope you will keep me in touch with this affair?"