like. My witness is Miss Violet Decie, only
daughter of Lord Edward Decie of that ilk."

The lawyer's dry, cautious manner seemed to be melting. He took up a
sheet of parchment and read it. It was a deed of some kind, in which the
names of Charles Darryll and Carl Sartoris figured very frequently.
Field asked to be told the gist of it.

"An assignment of mining rights," Fleming explained. "A place in Burmah.
It was a dangerous place to get at some time ago, but things have
changed recently. At one time certain Burmese followed Sir Charles about
and threatened his life unless he promised to let the thing drop. But
Sir Charles had assigned all his interest for the sum of five hundred
pounds paid to him by Mr. Carl Sartoris. Here is the signature."

The deed looked regular enough. Field looked closely at the signature of
Sir Charles.

"Of course it would be easy to get the body of the deed written by a
clerk," he said with a thoughtful air. "If there was anything wrong
about the thing, the false note would ring out in the signature. Are you
sure that it is genuine?"

"Quite," the lawyer said with conviction. "I'll show you some old
letters of poor Sir Charles if you like. The signature is a little
peculiar in the respect that it has a long loop to the first l, and a
short loop to the second. That appears in every signature. Besides there
is that little flourish over the C. The flourish really forms the
initials 'C. D.' Can't you see that for yourself? Leave out ever so
little of the flourish, and the 'C. D.' disappears."

Field was fain to be satisfied, though he was a little disappointed too.
The pretty little theory that he had been building up in his mind had
been shattered.

"I suppose I shall have to give way on that point," he said. "Only it
strikes me as strange that a man should have allowed this matter to lie
for three years without making use of it. Unless, of course, Sir
Charles's death made all the difference. Allow me."

Field's eyes began to gleam as they dwelt on the parchment. There was a
red seal in the top left-hand corner, a red seal with silver paper let
into it and some small figures on the edge.

"What do those figures represent?" he asked. "The figures 4. 4. '93, I
mean."

"The date," Fleming explained. "Those stamped skins are forwarded from
Somerset House to the various sub-offices, and they are dated on the
day they go out. The date-figures are very small, and only the legal eye
give