ther incriminating details. It meant imprisonment and
trial, probably, with all the notoriety and loss of practice they would
entail. A man thinks quickly at a time like that. All the probable
consequences of the finding of that pocket-book flashed through my mind
as I extended my hand to take it. Then I drew my arm back.

"I don't want it," I said. "Look inside. Maybe the other man took the
money and left the wallet."

The conductor opened it, and again there was a curious surging forward
of the crowd. To my intense disappointment the money was still there.

I stood blankly miserable while it was counted out--five
one-hundred-dollar bills, six twenties, and some fives and ones that
brought the total to six hundred and fifty dollars.

The little man with the note-book insisted on taking the numbers of
the notes, to the conductor's annoyance. It was immaterial to me: small
things had lost their power to irritate. I was seeing myself in the
prisoner's box, going through all the nerve-racking routine of a trial
for murder--the challenging of the jury, the endless cross-examinations,
the alternate hope and fear. I believe I said before that I had no
nerves, but for a few minutes that morning I was as near as a man ever
comes to hysteria.

I folded my arms and gave myself a mental shake. I seemed to be the
center of a hundred eyes, expressing every shade of doubt and distrust,
but I tried not to flinch. Then some one created a diversion.

The amateur detective was busy again with the seal-skin bag,
investigating the make of the safety razor and the manufacturer's name
on the bronze-green tie. Now, however, he paused and frowned, as though
some pet theory had been upset.

Then from a corner of the bag he drew out and held up for our inspection
some three inches of fine gold chain, one end of which was blackened and
stained with blood!

The conductor held out his hand for it, but the little man was not ready
to give it up. He turned to me.

"You say no watch was left you? Was there a piece of chain like that?"

"No chain at all," I said sulkily. "No jewelry of any kind, except plain
gold buttons in the shirt I am wearing."

"Where are your glasses?" he threw at me suddenly: instinctively my hand
went to my eyes. My glasses had been gone all morning, and I had not
even noticed their absence. The little man smiled cynically and held out
the chain.

"I must ask you to examine this," he insisted. "Isn't it a part of