otograph pasted on the back.

Thorndyke exhibited them to me with a provoking smile, holding them
daintily by their edges, before he slid them back into the grooves of
their box.

"We are making a little digression into philology, you see," he
remarked, as he pocketed the box. "But we must be off now, or we shall
keep Davidson waiting. Thank you, Polton."

The District Railway carried us swiftly eastward, and we emerged from
Aldgate Station a full half-hour before we were due. Nevertheless,
Thorndyke stepped out briskly, but instead of making directly for the
mortuary, he strayed off unaccountably into Mansell Street, scanning the
numbers of the houses as he went. A row of old houses, picturesque but
grimy, on our right seemed specially to attract him, and he slowed down
as we approached them.

"There is a quaint survival, Jervis," he remarked, pointing to a crudely
painted, wooden effigy of an Indian standing on a bracket at the door of
a small old-fashioned tobacconist's shop. We halted to look at the
little image, and at that moment the side door opened, and a woman came
out on to the doorstop, where she stood gazing up and down the street.

Thorndyke immediately crossed the pavement, and addressed her,
apparently with some question, for I heard her answer presently: "A
quarter-past six is his time, sir, and he is generally punctual to the
minute."

"Thank you," said Thorndyke; "I'll bear that in mind;" and, lifting his
hat, he walked on briskly, turning presently up a side-street which
brought us out into Aldgate. It was now but five minutes to four, so we
strode off quickly to keep our tryst at the mortuary; but although we
arrived at the gate as the hour was striking, when we entered the
building we found Dr. Davidson hanging up his apron and preparing to
depart.

"Sorry I couldn't wait for you," he said, with no great show of
sincerity, "but a _post-mortem_ is a mere farce in a case like this; you
have seen all that there was to see. However, there is the body; Hart
hasn't closed it up yet."

With this and a curt "good-afternoon" he departed.

"I must apologize for Dr. Davidson, sir," said Hart, looking up with a
vexed face from the desk at which he was writing out his notes.

"You needn't," said Thorndyke; "you didn't supply him with manners; and
don't let me disturb you. I only want to verify one or two points."

Accepting the hint, Hart and I remained at the desk, while Thorndyke,
removing his ha