I've no doubt whatever that the man who left the handkerchief
behind him was the man who knifed Salter Quick."

"I gather, from all you've said, that the handkerchief was in the
pocket-book you had stolen this morning?" I suggested.

"You're right in that," said he. "Oh, it was! Wrapped up in a bit of
oiled paper, and in an envelope, sealed down and attested in my
handwriting, Middlebrook--date and particulars of my discovery of it,
all in order. Aye, and there was more. Letters and papers of my own,
to be sure, and a trifle money--bank-notes. But there was yet another
thing that, in view of all we know, may be a serious thing to have
fall into the hands of ill-doers. A print, Middlebrook, of the
enlarged photograph I got of the inside of the lid of yon dead man's
tobacco-box!"

He regarded me with intense seriousness as he made this announcement,
and not knowing exactly what to say, I remained silent.

"Aye!" he continued. "And it's my distinct and solemn belief that it's
that the thief was after! Ye see, Middlebrook, it's been spoken
of--not widely noised abroad, as you might say, but still spoken of,
and things spread, that I was keenly interested in those marks,
scratches, whatever they were, on the inside of that lid, and got the
police to let me make a photograph, and it's my impression that
there's somebody about who's been keenly anxious to know what results
I obtained."

"You really think so?" said I. "Why--who could there be?"

"Aye, man, and who could there be, wi' a crest and monogram on his
kerchief, that 'ud murder yon man the secret way he has?" he retorted,
answering my incredulous look with one of triumph. "Tell me that, my
laddie! I'm telling you, Middlebrook, that this was no common murder
any more than the murder of the man's own brother down yonder at
Saltash, which is a Cornish riverside place, and a good four or five
hundred miles away, was a common, ordinary crime! Man! we're living in
the very midst of a mystery--and that there's bloody-minded, aye, and
bloody-handed men, maybe within our gates, but surely close by us, is
as certain to me as that I'm looking at you!"

"I thought you believed that Salter Quick's murderer was miles away
before ever Salter Quick was cold?" I observed.

"I did--and I've changed my mind," he answered. "I'm not thinking it
any more, and all the less since I was robbed of my venerable
pocket-book, with those two exhibits o' the crime in its wame. The
murdere