scription of the one to that of the other, we should
have it easy. But the few persons who have seen Wellgood differ greatly
in their remembrance of his features, and even of his coloring. It is
astonishing how superficially most people see a man, even when they are
thrown into daily contact with him. Mr. Jones says the man's eyes are
gray, his hair a wig and dark, his nose pudgy, and his face without much
expression. His land-lady, that his eyes are blue, his hair, whether wig
or not, a dusty auburn, and his look quick and piercing,--a look which
always made her afraid. His nose she don't remember. Both agree, or
rather all agree, that he wore no beard--Sears did, but a beard can
be easily taken off--and all of them declare that they would know him
instantly if they saw him. And so the matter stands. Even you can
give me no definite description,--one, I mean, as satisfactory or
unsatisfactory as this of Sears."

I shook my head. Like the others, I felt that I should know him if I saw
him, but I could go no further than that. There seemed to be so little
that was distinctive about the man.

The inspector, hoping, perhaps, that all this would serve to rouse my
memory, shrugged his shoulders and put the best face he could on the
matter.

"Well, well," said he, "we shall have to be patient. A day may make all
the difference possible in our outlook. If we can lay hands on either of
these men--"

He seemed to realize he had said a word too much, for he instantly
changed the subject by asking if I had succeeded in getting a sample of
Miss Grey's writing. I was forced to say no; that everything had been
very carefully put away. "But I do not know what moment I may come upon
it," I added. "I do not forget its importance in this investigation."

"Very good. Those lines handed up to Mrs. Fairbrother from the walk
outside are the second most valuable clue we possess."

I did not ask him what the first was. I knew. It was the stiletto.

"Strange that no one has testified to that handwriting," I remarked.

He looked at me in surprise.

"Fifty persons have sent in samples of writing which they think like
it," he observed. "Often of persons who never heard of the Fairbrothers.
We have been bothered greatly with the business. You know little of the
difficulties the police labor under."

"I know too much," I sighed.

He smiled and patted me on the hand.

"Go back to your patient," he said. "Forget every other duty but that