"Yes. Send the janitor here."

That worthy, upon receipt of a considerable benefaction, expressed
himself ready to serve the new tenant to the best of his ability.

"Do you know when Mr. Perkins left the building?"

"Yes, sir. This morning, early."

"This morning! Sure it wasn't yesterday?"

"Am I sure? Didn't I help him to the street-car and hand him his
little package? That sick he was he couldn't hardly walk alone."

Average Jones pondered a moment. "Do you think he could have passed
the night here?"

"I know he did," was the prompt response. "The scrubwoman heard him
when she came this morning."

"Heard him?"

"Yes' sir. Sobbing, like."

The nerves of Average Jones gave a sharp "kickback," like a
mis-cranked motor-car. His trend of thought had suddenly been
reversed. The devious and scientific slayer of Telfik Bey in tears?
It seemed completely out of the picture.