, everything! Have you
no sense in that picturesque head of yours? Your skull is big enough to
hold brains, not soap-bubbles."

"Did your French father marry a Jap?" inquired Hart, with sudden
interest.

"And now you're insulting my mother," yelped the detective.

"Not I. You know nothing about the finest race of little women in the
world, or you would not even imagine such rubbish."

"But why, why, didn't you tell me that you saw someone outside?"

"You wouldn't have believed me. The goblin was disappearing. I had to
shoot quick."

"Why shoot at all?"

"Sir, there are certain manifestations I object to on principle. What
self-respecting ghost ever wore whiskers?"

"This was no ghost. You shot the man's hat off."

"Then what the blazes are you growling at? Had I, in blood-curdling
whisper, told you that once again there was a face at the window, you
would have scoffed at me. The ill-looking scamp caught my eye after his
first glance at Grant. He was mizzling when I fired. You would have sat
there and argued about hypnosis, with our worthy author's skilled
support. And there would have been no hat! I do an admirable bit of trick
shooting, yet I am only reviled for my dexterity. Really, Charles
Francois!"

"Ah! You remember, at last," and the detective smiled sourly.

"_Parfaitement_! as they say in Paris, where you and I met once, though
'twas in a crowd. But _I_ didn't steal the blessed pearl. I believe it
was that blatant patriot, Domengo Suarez."

"You've got _some_ brains, then. Why not use them? Don't you see what a
fix we three would have found ourselves in had you shot the man?"

"But, consider, Carlo mio! A spook with whiskers! What court would find
me guilty? Let me produce the authentic record of Owd Ben, and I have no
doubt but that the Lord Chief Justice himself would have potted his
representative. He'd be bound to confess it."

Furneaux was cooling down.

"You've shaken my confidence," he said. "Unless I have your promise that
you will never do such a thing again while in my company, I shall ban you
from this inquiry with bell, book, and candle."

"Very well. It's a bargain. Now let us ponder Exhibit A."

He stretched a long arm over the table, and took the hat.

"Put it on!" commanded the detective.

Hart did so, and scowled frightfully. Furneaux bent forward and squinted.

"Notice the line of those bullet-holes," he said to Grant.

"Any man wearing that hat must have had his scal