nese--many a Tom,
Dick, and Harry of 'em; he bought curios of all descriptions, and often
sold them again as soon as bought."

"Very good suggestion," said Professor Cox-Raythwaite. "He may have
bought something extremely valuable from this Dimambro that day, or that
night, and--he may have had it on him when he was murdered. Clearly, we
must see this Luigi Dimambro!"

"If he's the man who called at the House, you forget that he's been
advertised for no end," said Selwood.

"No, I don't," responded the Professor. "But he may be out of the
country: may have come to it specially to see Jacob Herapath, and left
it again. I repeat, we must see this man, if he's to be found. We must
make inquiries--cautious, guarded inquiries--at this hotel in Soho,
which is probably a foreigners' house of call, a mere restaurant. And
the very person to make those inquiries," he concluded, turning to
Selwood and favouring him with a smack of the shoulder, "is--you!"

Selwood flinched, physically and mentally. He had no great love of the
proposed role--private detective work did not appeal to him. And he
suggested that Professor Cox-Raythwaite had far better apply to Scotland
Yard.

"By no means," answered the Professor calmly. "You are the man to do the
work. We don't want any police interference. This Hotel Ravenna is
probably some cafe, restaurant, or saloon in Soho, frequented by
foreigners--a place where, perhaps, a man can get a room for a night or
two. You must go quietly, unobtrusively, there; if it's a restaurant, as
it's sure to be, or at any rate, a place to which a restaurant is
attached, go in and get some sort of a meal, keep your eyes open, find
out the proprietor, get into talk with him, see if he knows Luigi
Dimambro. All you need is tact, caution, and readiness to adapt yourself
to circumstances."

Then, when they left Mr. Halfpenny's office he took Selwood aside and
gave him certain hints and instructions, and enlarged upon the
advantages of finding Dimambro if he was to be found. The Professor
himself was enthusiastic about these recent developments, and he
succeeded in communicating some of his enthusiasm to Selwood. After all,
thought Selwood, as he went to Portman Square to tell Peggie of the
afternoon's doings, whatever he did was being done for Peggie; moreover,
he was by that time certain that however mean and base Barthorpe
Herapath's conduct had been about the will, he was certainly not the
murderer of his