ou know what I gave up to undertake this case, and you know how I have
thrown myself into it. This is Wednesday night, the crime was committed
last Saturday, and in these four days I haven't slept twelve hours. As to
eating--well, never mind that. The point is, I was in it, heart and soul,
and--now I'm out of it."

"An infernal shame!" muttered Tignol.

"Perhaps not. I've done some hard thinking since I got word this morning
that my commission was canceled, and I have reached an important
conclusion. In the first place, I am not sure that I haven't fallen into
the old error of allowing my judgment to be too much influenced by a
preconceived theory. I wouldn't admit this for the world to anyone but you
two. I'd rather cut my tongue out than let Gibelin know it. Careful,
there," he said sharply, as their wheels swung dangerously near a stone
shelter in the Place de la Concorde.

Both Pougeot and Tignol noted with surprise the half-resigned,
half-discouraged tone of the famous detective.

"You don't mean that you think the American may be guilty?" questioned the
commissary.

"Never in the world!" grumbled Tignol.

"I don't say he is guilty," answered M. Paul, "but I am not so sure he is
innocent. And, if there is doubt about that, then there is doubt whether
this case is really a great one. I have assumed that Martinez was killed by
an extraordinary criminal, for some extraordinary reason, but--I may have
been mistaken."

"Of course," agreed Pougeot. "And if you were mistaken?"

"Then I've been wasting my time on a second-class investigation that a
second-class man like Gibelin could have carried on as well as I; and
losing the Rio Janeiro offer besides." He leaned forward suddenly toward
the chauffeur. "See here, what are you trying to do?" As he spoke they
barely escaped colliding with a cab coming down the Champs Elysees.

"It was his fault; one of his lanterns is out," declared the chauffeur,
and, half turning, he exchanged curses with the departing jehu.

They had now reached Napoleon's arch, and, at greater speed, the automobile
descended the Avenue de la Grande Armee.

"Are you thinking of accepting the Rio Janeiro offer?" asked the commissary
presently.

"Very seriously; but I don't know whether it's still open. I thought
perhaps you would go to the Brazilian Embassy and ask about it delicately.
I don't like to go myself, after this affair. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind, of course I don't mind," a