did not find it necessary to go about saying 'Ha! ha!' as M. Le Coq
was accustomed to do to advertise his cleverness; neither did I
disguise myself as a drum-major and hide under a kitchen-table for
the purpose of solving a mystery involving the abduction of a parlor
stove, after the manner of the talented Hawkshaw. By mental
concentration alone, without fireworks or orchestral accompaniment of
any sort whatsoever, did I go about my business, and for that very
reason many of my fellow-sleuths were forced to go out of real
detective work into that line of the business with which the stage
has familiarized the most of us--a line in which nothing but
stupidity, luck, and a yellow wig is required of him who pursues it."

"This man is an impostor," whispered Le Coq to Hawkshaw.

"I've known that all along by the mole on his left wrist," returned
Hawkshaw, contemptuously.

"I suspected it the minute I saw he was not disguised," returned Le
Coq, knowingly. "I have observed that the greatest villains latterly
have discarded disguises, as being too easily penetrated, and
therefore of no avail, and merely a useless expense."

"Silence!" cried Confucius, impatiently. "How can the gentleman
proceed, with all this conversation going on in the rear?"

Hawkshaw and Le Coq immediately subsided, and the stranger went on.

"It was in this way that I treated the strange case of the lost
tiara," resumed the stranger. "Mental concentration upon seemingly
insignificant details alone enabled me to bring about the desired