crutinised it closely.

"It has not been cleaned," he said.

"No, it was left untouched after the doctor withdrew it from the poor
young fellow's breast."

Brett produced a magnifying glass. Beneath the rust on the blade he
thought he could distinguish some Japanese characters in the quaint
pictorial script adapted by that singular people from the Chinese system
of writing.

He brought the knife nearer to the window and carefully focussed it. Then
he produced a note-book and made a pencil drawing of the following
inscription:

[Illustration]

Winter watched him with quiet agony. He had never noticed the signs
before.

"Mr. Okasaki did not tell you what these scratches meant?" inquired the
barrister.

"No. He did not see them."

"Sure?"

"Quite positive. Of course, it is very smart on your part to hit upon them
so quickly, but what possible purpose can it serve to find out the meaning
of something carved in Japan more than fifty years ago, at the very
least?"

"I do not know. It is very stupid of me, I admit, but I have not the
faintest notion."

"Does it make the finding of Okasaki more important?"

"To a certain extent. We want to have everything explained. At present we
have so little of what I regard as really definite evidence."

"May I ask what that little is?"

"Sir Alan Hume-Frazer was murdered with a knife produced by a man like
David Hume, whom 'Rabbit Jack' saw standing beneath the yews. Not much,
eh?"

Winter shook his head dubiously.

"If Sir Alan were shot instead of stabbed," went on the barrister, "the
first thing you would endeavour to determine would be the calibre and
nature of the bullet. Why not be equally particular about the knife?"

"But this weapon has been for fifty years in Glen Tochan. Its history is
thoroughly established."

"Is it? Who made it? Whose crest does it bear? What does this motto
signify? If you wanted to kill a man would you use this toy? Why was not
the sword itself employed?"

"That string of questions leaves me out, Mr. Brett."

"I am equally uninformed. I can only answer the last one. The sword is
intended for suicidal purposes, the Ko-Katana for an enemy. This is a case
of murder, not suicide."

The detective wheeled sharply on his heels, thereby upsetting Charles
Peace's telescopic ladder.

"You suspect Okasaki!" he cried.

"My dear fellow! Okasaki is, say, five feet nothing. The murderer is five
feet ten inches in height. Japanese are cle