ts."

Beside the knife blade he also had resort to the pocket lens which
Scanlon had seen him use at Stanwick; then after he had slipped a
fragment of the hardened mortar into a fold of his pocketbook, he
reentered the room. And as he did so, Bat Scanlon once more saw the look
in his face which he had seen a few moments before, and which he had
failed to interpret.

"What next?" said the big man, rather helplessly, for the expression was
as mystifying now as before.

"That will be all, I think," said the investigator, cheerfully. "Thank
you," to the maid, as she led the way down the stairs. And as she opened
the street door for them, he added: "Please say to Miss Cavanaugh that
we are extremely obliged to her; and that our call has been far from
wasted, even though we were unfortunate enough to come when she was
out."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] For the details of the Campe case, see the volume entitled:
"Ashton Kirk, Special Detective."

CHAPTER VII

SOME NEW DEVELOPMENTS

Ashton-Kirk filled a finely colored meerschaum from the jar of Greek
tobacco on the table; the pipe was a large one; upon the stem was a
charging boar, exceptionally well done; and the curving bit was hard,
gray bone.

"That combination always struck me as an exciting smoke," observed Bat
Scanlon, from the opposite side of the table. "The tobacco, like most
things from the Balkans, is a little unsettled; and the wild porker
means battle with every bristle."

"It was no ordinary carver who gave this old chap his warlike look,"
said Ashton-Kirk, as he tapped the boar's bristling back with one
finger. "No less a person than Pasquale Guiccioli is responsible for
him."

"That so?" said Scanlon. "It seems like small work for a sculptor of his
displacement."

"It was merely curiosity. He wanted to test this sort of clay as a
medium, I suppose. And with a man like Guiccioli, even a whim must
result in something like a masterpiece. It was just about the time of
that turmoil about the Florentine bronzes; and a bad light was thrown on
the old man by persons interested in spoiling his career. I had the good
fortune to come at the truth of the matter; and the sculptor, in an
outburst of Italian fervor, declared that I might name any of his
possessions as a reward."

"And you picked the pipe, eh?" Scanlon drew at his cigar, and nodded
approval. But his eyes went from the meerschaum to a sheet of white
letter paper upon the table which contained so