seems to me that they
made a very neat job of the affair."

"They did blunder. It does look like a neat job to a non-professional,
but they have left several flaws in their work. They felt very confident
of future safety, I am sure, for they were shrewd fellows; that's
established in my mind. There's a something about this case that puzzles
me, and some queer ideas are drifting through my head, but for the
present I shall keep them there. About those blunders now. That boat
business was the first. There's plain proof; then look at the manner in
which they stirred up the library. Why, man, didn't you reflect that
those heavy chairs never could have been overturned by a hasty careless
hand, without coming down with a loud bang? and there are three of them,
all thrown down in different positions; every one of them was lowered
slowly, carefully. Why, look at that pile of books upon the floor! do
you imagine they were ever tossed down from their shelves, as they
appear to have been, without striking upon the floor or each other, with
a thud? I can see the whole operation; one man held the lantern while
the other disarranged the room. But they did not do it well. That much
of the business looks like the work of an amateur. Perhaps you wonder
why I did not speak of this to Miss Wardour. I said enough to convince
her that I had studied the matter; I did not wish to exhaust the
subject, that is the business of the man who is to come. And now I think
I will remove my cast, and then, my dear fellow, I am quite ready to
retire, for I feel the need of all the sleep I can get between now and
sunrise."

"Shocking confession," laughs the doctor, lazily. "Let me tell you it's
highly improper for a detective to get sleepy, or hungry, or tired; they
never do it in print."

"Which should convince you that they always do out of it. Detectives, my
dear sir, are like doctors, their success depends upon the people's
faith in them, not on their own merits. Now I know that you can't see
through the anatomy of old Mrs. Grundy, and tell what she had for
dinner, unless, to be sure, she had been eating onions; but if Mrs.
Grundy doubted for a moment your ability to don your professional
spectacles and peer into the innermost depths of her disordered old
being, she would write another name than yours on her books, as favorite
physician."

"Guide, philosopher and friend," quotes the doctor, composedly. "Let
Mrs. Grundy alone, will you, she is one