Through the Wall

o the disappearance of Martinez's fair companion. More or less plausible theories were also put forth touching the arrested American, prudently referred to as "Monsieur K., a well-known New Yor

ured a clew that would lead shortly to important revelations. Alas, no one

ts the street and turning to the left, mounted the wide stone stairway. He had had his snatch of sleep at the haman, his rubdown and cold plunge, but not hi

rs leading to the offices of seven judges. Seven! Strange this resemblance to the fatal corr

the court in black robes with amusing white bibs at their throats. And presently he entered Judge Ha

lty, petty thieves, shifty-eyed scoundrels, dull brutes of murderers, and occasionally a criminal of a higher class, summoned for the preliminary examinations. Here, under the eye of a bored guard, they had passed miserable hours while the judge, smiling or frowning, hands in his pockets, strode back and forth over the shabby red-and-green carpet putting endless questions, sifting out truth from falsehood, stru

atient, inexorable in the pursuit

orning," he said, remark

in a chair he proceeded to relate the events of the night, endi

. Not only was there no longer any question of suicide, but it was obvious that they were de

ssassin himself who met y

't y

nk his motive was to g

hat reas

so much for that. How did he know that you hadn't

had," sighed

uldn't remember the name? Ca

he words distinctly, the name and the address. It was a foreign name, English I should say, and the street was an avenue near the Champs Elysées, the Avenue

ssed it. He took the address from you on a chance, but his chief pur

d then muttered savagely: "How did he kno

system of surveillance that we must try to circumvent.

n the hands of the judge, and photographs of the scene of the tragedy would be ready shortly as well as plaster impressions of the alleyway footprints. An hour before, as arranged the previous night, Papa Tignol had starte

rmation, but the discomfited Gibelin whose presence in the ou

er Coquenil's fat, red-haired rival entered with a smil

ws for us!" excl

odded. Then, with a sarcastic glance at Coquenil

agreed Coq

I suppose there is no objection to my rendering my distinguished associ

ot," replied

erican has a room on the Rue Rac

sly. There is no detective big-souled enough not to tingle w

alking with the man who sent out the banquet invitations and he told me. M. Kittredge has a little room with a brick floor up si

mined hi

of the chambermaid. A good-looking wench! And a sharp one!

e in M. Paul, "wha

old school has its goo

"For one thing I discovered a photograph of

l!" cried

eady you have the woman's name and addre

was this! No doubt Gibelin had hear

the woman's photograph?

I suppose you know that when this woman slipped out of the Ansonia, she drove directl

N

n with a rain coat over it like the one this woman escaped in. This lady sent a note by the concierge

t time w

teen minutes later they stopped at his hotel and he went up to his room, two steps, at a time, while she waited in the cab. And Jean, the gar?on, had a good

oined the judge. "And y

, b

found it?" p

d a piece of it, a corn

cried th

ull of fresh ashes. Rose says it was clean before he went up, so I picked out the best fragments-here they are." He drew a small package from his poc

them. "It's in English. Ah, is this part of the

e photographer's

turning to the judge: "Wouldn't it be a good idea to send a man to London with this?

e," agreed

otes found on Martinez and see if he can trace them through the Bank of En

" and, ringing for his secretary, t

smile. "But why so much trouble," he asked, "whe

knowledged M. Paul, and in a few w

r, "I thought you were

n Hauteville. "Had the chamberm

H?tel des étrangers about seven months ago, and soon after th

ittredge's room?

es

id describe her?"

ng and good-looking-that's

anything els

ing for the last. I'm afraid it will annoy my distinguished

ur sympathy," r

won't. I only mean that your début in this case hasn

ved the judge. "Let

man, "I have found the owner of

owner of the pistol we

he body. The autopsy proves it, so Dr. Joubert says. And this pistol belongs in a leather holster that I found in

ious worn places corresponded and the weapon fitted in its case. "Besides," continued Gibelin, "the chambermaid identifies this pistol as the proper

ad," mutter

too easy, it's too sim

e problems in difficult ways. We don't reject a solution merely because

ou think the truth turns out to be the truth, then y

" smiled

ed the judge. Then abruptly to Gib

nd to the prison and get th

el and see if they noticed a muddy pair in his room this morning. Bring me whatever boots

he went out, pausing at the do

ll see that he has nothing more to do with t

arrested last night?" he said to

in with the o

or the preliminary examination. Make out his commi

he clerk bowe

g man innocent, do you?" re

m innocent than guilty,"

sie

eve it. If he is guilty he must have had the key to that alleyway door. How did he get it? He must have known, that the 'tall blonde' who had engaged Number Seven would not occupy it. How did he know t

the p

y be his. Gibelin's whole

all feel better satisfied when we have compared the soles of h

n who is finishing the casts?" he suggested; "it won't

and he bowed with grave friendline

, reviewing the evidence, comparing the various reports and opinions, and, in the light of clear reason, searching for a plausible theory of the crime. He als

ed Hauteville, and presently the t

quired with a

oots that absolutely correspond with the plaster casts of the alleyway footprints; everythi

d to Coquenil.

ed. "It seem

n Hauteville said in measured tones: "It ma

of perplexity and exasperation he snappe