me is given at the inquiry, then the assassin will certainly know that
I have identified him."

"And what then?"

"Well," I said with some hesitation, "while I am believed to be in
ignorance we shall have opportunity for obtaining the truth."

"Then you do really suspect?" he said, again looking at me with those
cold, blue eyes.

"I know not whom to suspect," I declared. "It is a mystery why the man
who was once my faithful servant should be enticed to that wood and
stabbed to the heart."

"There is no one in the vicinity who knew him?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"We might obtain his address in London through his father in Leghorn,"
suggested the officer.

"I will write to-day if you so desire," I said readily. "Indeed, I will
get my friend the British Consul to go round and see the old man and
telegraph the address if he obtains it."

"Capital!" he declared. "If you will do us this favor we shall be
greatly indebted to you. It is fortunate that we have established the
victim's identity--otherwise we might be entirely in the dark. A
murdered foreigner is always more or less of a mystery."

Therefore, then and there, I took a sheet of paper and wrote to my old
friend Hutcheson at Leghorn, asking him to make immediate inquiry of
Olinto's father as to his son's address in London.

I said nothing to the police of that strange adventure of mine over in
Lambeth, or of how the man now dead had saved my life. That his enemies
were my own he had most distinctly told me, therefore I felt some
apprehension that I myself was not safe. Yet in my hip pocket I always
carried my revolver--just as I did in Italy--and I rather prided myself
on my ability to shoot straight.

We sat for a long time discussing the strange affair. In order to betray
no eagerness to get away, I offered the big Highlander a cigar from my
case, and we smoked together. The inquiry would be held on the morrow,
he told me, but as far as the public was concerned the body would remain
as that of some person "unknown."

"And you had better not come to my uncle's house, or send anyone," I
said. "If you desire to see me, send me a line and I will meet you here
in Dumfries. It will be safer."

The officer looked at me with those keen eyes of his, and said:

"Really, Mr. Gregg, I can't quite make you out, I confess. You seem to
be apprehensive of your own safety. Why?"

"Italians are a very curious people," I responded quickly. "Their
vendetta extends