“I don’t know Mr. Fox.”

“Then I will inform you that he is a dealer in the materials for ‘make-up,’ theatrical or otherwise, and will leave you to consider the bearing of this bottle on our present investigation.  There doesn’t seem to be anything else of interest in this El Dorado excepting that screw, which you notice is about the size of those with which the bolts were fastened on the doors.  I don’t think it is worth while to unstop any of the holes to try it; we should learn nothing fresh.”

He rose, and, having kicked the discarded rubbish back under the grate, gathered up his gleanings from the mantelpiece, carefully bestowing the spectacles and the fragments of glass in the tin box that he appeared always to carry in his pocket, and wrapping the larger objects in his handkerchief.

“A poor collection,” was his comment, as he returned the box and handkerchief to his pocket, “and yet not so poor as I had feared.  Perhaps, if we question them closely enough, these unconsidered trifles may be made to tell us something worth learning after all.  Shall we go into the other room?”

We passed out on to the landing and into the front room, where, guided by experience, we made straight for the fire-place.  But the little heap of rubbish there contained nothing that even Thorndyke’s inquisitive eye could view with interest.  We wandered disconsolately round the room, peering into the empty cupboards and scanning the floor and the corners by the skirting, without discovering a single object or relic of the late occupants.  In the course of my perambulations I halted by the window and was looking down into the street when Thorndyke called to me sharply: 

“Come away from the window, Jervis!  Have you forgotten that Mrs. Schallibaum may be in the neighbourhood at this moment?”

As a matter of fact I had entirely forgotten the matter, nor did it now strike me as anything but the remotest of possibilities.  I replied to that effect.

“I don’t agree with you,” Thorndyke rejoined.  “We have heard that she comes here to look for letters.  Probably she comes every day, or even oftener.  There is a good deal at stake, remember, and they cannot feel quite as secure as they would wish.  Weiss must have seen what view you took of the case and must have had some uneasy moments thinking of what you might do.  In fact, we may take it that the fear of you drove them out of the neighbourhood, and that they are mighty anxious to get that letter and cut the last link that binds them to this house.”

“I suppose that is so,” I agreed; “and if the lady should happen to pass this way and should see me at the window and recognize me, she would certainly smell a rat.”

“A rat!” exclaimed Thorndyke.  “She would smell a whole pack of foxes, and Mr. H. Weiss would be more on his guard than ever.  Let us have a look at the other rooms; there is nothing here.”