ry--'

'Tush,' cried the detective; 'do not, I beg of you, call it a mystery.
There is no such thing. Life would become more tolerable if there ever
_was_ a mystery. Nothing is original. Everything has been done before.
What about the Pegram affair?'

'The Pegram--ah--case has baffled everyone. The _Evening Blade_ wishes
you to investigate, so that it may publish the result. It will pay you
well. Will you accept the commission?'

'Possibly. Tell me about the case.'

'I thought everybody knew the particulars. Mr. Barrie Kipson lived at
Pegram. He carried a first-class season ticket between the terminus
and that station. It was his custom to leave for Pegram on the 5.30
train each evening. Some weeks ago, Mr. Kipson was brought down by the
influenza. On his first visit to the City after his recovery, he drew
something like L300 in notes, and left the office at his usual hour to
catch the 5.30. He was never seen again alive, as far as the public
have been able to learn. He was found at Brewster in a first-class
compartment on the Scotch Express, which does not stop between London
and Brewster. There was a bullet in his head, and his money was gone,
pointing plainly to murder and robbery.'

'And where is the mystery, might I ask?'

'There are several unexplainable things about the case. First, how
came he on the Scotch Express, which leaves at six, and does not stop
at Pegram? Second, the ticket examiners at the terminus would have
turned him out if he showed his season ticket; and all the tickets
sold for the Scotch Express on the 21st are accounted for. Third, how
could the murderer have escaped? Fourth, the passengers in the two
compartments on each side of the one where the body was found heard no
scuffle and no shot fired.'

'Are you sure the Scotch Express on the 21st did not stop between
London and Brewster?'

'Now that you mention the fact, it did. It was stopped by signal just
outside of Pegram. There was a few moments' pause, when the line was
reported clear, and it went on again. This frequently happens, as
there is a branch line beyond Pegram.'

Mr. Sherlaw Kombs pondered for a few moments, smoking his pipe
silently.

'I presume you wish the solution in time for tomorrow's paper?'

'Bless my soul, no. The editor thought if you evolved a theory in a
month you would do well.'

'My dear sir, I do not deal with theories, but with facts. If you can
make it convenient to call here tomorrow at 8 a.m. I