“This thing has sort of knocked me off my balance, I suppose,” said Pendleton, rather bewildered.  “Don’t expect too much of me, Kirk.”  He stuffed his hands in his pockets dejectedly and continued:  “You now tell me that this man was a mute.  Yesterday you said he was small, that he was near-sighted, that he was well dressed and knew something of the modern German dramatists.  You also told the conductor that he wore thick glasses and a silk hat.  Now, I suppose I’m all kinds of an idiot for not understanding how you know these things about a man you never saw.  But I confess it candidly; I don’t understand.”

“It all belongs to my method of work,” said Ashton-Kirk.  “It’s simple enough when you go about it the right way.  I have already given you my reasons for thinking the man who did this,” pointing to the step, “to be a mute.  I judged that he was of small stature because he chose the bottom step upon which to trace his word signs.  Even an ordinary sized man would have selected one higher up.”

“All right,” said Pendleton.  “That looks good to me, so far.”

“The deductions that he was well dressed and also near-sighted were from the one source.  His hat fell off while he was tracing the signs; that showed me that he was forced to stoop very close to his work in order to see what he was about.  You see that, don’t you?”

“How did you know his hat fell off?” asked Pendleton, incredulously.

“Mrs. Dwyer is evidently paid to clean only the hall and lower stairway,” replied Ashton-Kirk, composedly.  “And that she sticks closely to that arrangement is shown by the condition of this upper flight.  The dust upon the step is rather thick.  If you will notice,” and he indicated a place on the second step, “here is a spot where a round, flat object rested.  That this object was a silk hat is positive.  You can see the sharp impress of the nap in the dust; here is the curl in the exact center of the crown as seen in silk hats only.  And men who wear silk hats are usually well-dressed men.”

“But how can you be at all sure that the hat fell off?  Isn’t it possible that he took it off and laid it there?”

“Possible—­yes—­but scarcely probable.  A well-dressed man is so from instinct.  And his instinctive neatness would hardly permit him to put his well-kept hat down in the dust.”

“Go on,” said Pendleton.

“The stairs have been used since the hat fell there; but the dust has not been disturbed.  There is a hand-rail on the other side of the flight, and consequently, all went up and down on that side.”

“I can understand the thick glasses,” said Pendleton, “his being near-sighted suggested those.  But what made you think he cared for the modern German dramatists?”

“That was a hazard, merely,” and the investigator laughed.