woman. Wilson
claimed that they had gone to the house where the murdered woman lay. It
would seem that Mr. Mitchel's friend must live there, and thus he had
gained access the night before. Did he know that the other also lived
there, and did he go into her apartment after leaving his companion? As
this passed through Mr. Barnes's mind his eyes wandered across the bed.
He saw a waistcoat upon which he observed two buttons similar to the
one which he had secreted in his pocket. Stealthily he reached his hand
towards the bed, but his fingers had scarcely touched the waistcoat,
when Mr. Mitchel said, without turning from his shaving:

"There is no money in that waistcoat, Mr. Barnes."

"What do you mean to insinuate," said Mr. Barnes angrily, withdrawing
his hand quickly. Mr. Mitchel paused a moment before replying,
deliberately made one or two more sweeps with his razor, then turned and
faced the detective.

"I mean, Mr. Barnes, that you forgot that I was looking into a mirror."

"Your remark indicated that I meant to steal."

"Did it? I am sorry. But really you should not adopt a thief's stealthy
methods if you are so sensitive. When I invite a gentleman into my
private room, I do not expect to have him fingering my clothing whilst
my back is turned."

"Take care, Mr. Mitchel, you are speaking to a detective. If I did
stretch my hand towards your clothing it was with no wrong intent and
you know it."

"Certainly I do, and what is more I know just what you were wishing to
do. You must not get angered so easily. I should not have used the words
which I did, but to tell you the truth I was piqued."

"I don't understand."

"It hurt my feelings to have you treat me just like an ordinary
criminal. That you should think I would let you come in here and make
whatever examinations you have in your mind, right before my very eyes,
wounded my pride. I never should have turned my back upon you except
that I faced a mirror. I told you I know what you wished to do. It was
to examine the buttons on my vest, was it not?"

Mr. Barnes was staggered but did not show it. Calmly he said:

"As you know, I overheard your conversation on the train. You spoke of
having a set of five curious buttons and----"

"Pardon me, I said six, not five." Once more Mr. Barnes had failed to
trap the man. He suggested five, hoping that Mr. Mitchel might claim
that to have been the original number, thus eliminating the lost one.

"Of course, you