wo among his
fellows at Scotland Yard that His Honour had a weakness for a pretty face
and in private life led a less decorous existence than a judge ought to
do. Rolfe wondered how much or how little truth was contained in these
stories. He glanced around the vast room. Certainly it was not the sort
of apartment in which a High Court judge might be expected to do his
entertaining, but Rolfe recalled that he had heard gossip to the effect
that Sir Horace, because of his virtual estrangement from his daughter,
did very little entertaining beyond an occasional bridge or supper party
to his sporting friends, and rarely went into Society.

Rolfe began to scrutinise the articles of furniture in the room,
wondering if there was anything about them which might reveal something
of the habits of the dead man. He produced a small electric torch from
his pocket, and with its light to guide him in the half-darkened room, he
closely inspected each piece of furniture. Then, with the torch in his
hand, he returned to the sofa and flashed it over the dead body. He
started violently when the light, falling on the dead man's closed hand,
revealed a tiny scrap of white. Eagerly he endeavoured to release the
fragment from the tenacious clutch of the dead without tearing it, and
eventually he managed to detach it. His heart bounded when he saw that it
was a small torn piece of lace and muslin. He placed it in the palm of
his left hand and examined it closely under the light of his torch. To
him it looked to be part of a fashionable lady's dainty handkerchief. He
was elated at his discovery and he wondered how Inspector Chippenfield
had overlooked it. Then the explanation struck him. The small piece of
lace and muslin had been effectually hidden in the dead man's clenched
hand, and his efforts to open the hand had loosened it.

"Well, Rolfe," said Inspector Chippenfield, when his subordinate
reappeared, "you've been long enough to have unearthed the criminal or
revived the corpse. Have you discovered anything fresh?"

"Only this," replied Rolfe, displaying the piece of handkerchief.

The find startled Inspector Chippenfield out of his air of bantering
superiority.

"Where did you get that?" he stammered, as he reached out eagerly for it.

"The dead man had it clenched in his right hand. I wondered if he had
anything hidden in his hand when I saw it so tightly clenched. I tried to
force open the fingers and that fell out."

Inspector C