he man who called himself John
Barcombe, of Manchester. You will observe that he signed that name in a
great, sprawling hand across the page, and that the letters slope from
left to right, downward, instead of in the usually accepted fashion of
left to right, upward. Now at first sight there is no great similarity
in the writing of that entry in the register and that on the card--one is
rounded and sprawling, and the other is thin and precise. But there is
one remarkable and striking similarity. In the entry in the register
there are two a's--the a in Barcombe, the a in Manchester. On the one
line on the card found pinned to the door there are also two a's--the a
in please; the a in call. Now observe--whether the writing is big,
sprawling, thin, precise; feigned, obviously, in one case, natural, I
think, in the other, all those four a's are the same! This man has grown
so accustomed to making his a's after the Greek fashion--a--done in one
turn of the pen--that he has made them even in his feigned handwriting!
There's not a doubt, to my mind, that the card found on Herman's door was
written, and put on that door, by the man who registered as John
Barcombe. And," he added in an undertone to Allerdyke, "I've no doubt,
either, that he's the man of the Eastbourne Terrace affair."

The landlord had risen to his feet, and was scowling gloomily at
everybody.

"Then you are making it out to be murder?" he exclaimed sulkily. "Just
what I expected! Never had police called in yet without 'em making
mountains out of molehills! Murder, indeed!--nothing but a case of
suicide, that's what I say. And as this is a temperance hotel, and not a
licensed house, I'll be obliged to you if you'll have that body taken
away to the mortuary--I shall be having the character of my place taken
away next, and then where shall I be I should like to know!"

He swung indignantly out of the room, and his wife, murmuring that it was
certainly very hard on innocent people that these things went on,
followed him. The police, giving no heed to these protests, proceeded to
examine the articles taken from the dead man's clothing. Whatever had
been the object of the murderer, it was certainly not robbery. There was
a purse and a pocket-book, containing a considerable amount of money in
gold and notes; a good watch and chain, and a ring or two of some value.

"Just the same circumstances as in the Eastbourne Terrace affair," said
the chief as he rose. "Well--