England--in fact, now I come to think of it, he said as much.
Made some remark in the train about the pleasantness of the
English landscape, don't you know?--I got an idea that he'd
recently come from some country where trees and hedges and
green fields aren't much in evidence. But--if you want to
know who he is, officer, why don't you search him? He's sure
to have papers, cards, and so on about him."

"We have searched him," answered Mitchington. "There isn't a
paper, a letter, or even a visiting card on him."

Mr. Dellingham looked at the landlady.

"Bless me!" he said. "Remarkable! But he'd a suit-case, or
something of the sort--something light--which he carried up
from the railway station himself. Perhaps in that--"

"I should like to see whatever he had," said Mitchington.
"We'd better examine his room, Mrs. Partingley."

Bryce presently followed the landlady and the inspector
upstairs--Mr. Dellingham followed him. All four went into a
bedroom which looked out on Monday Market. And there, on a
side-table, lay a small leather suit-case, one which could
easily be carried, with its upper half thrown open and back
against the wall behind.

The landlady, Mr. Dellingham and Bryce stood silently by while
the inspector examined the contents of this the only piece of
luggage in the room. There was very little to see--what