y, revised my judgment, and turning slightly
observed the man who sat next me. Determined to draw only logical
inferences, I scrutinized his coat, that garment being usually highly
suggestive to our best regulated detectives. I noticed that while the
left sleeve was unworn and in good condition, the right sleeve was
frayed at the inside edge, and excessively smooth and shiny on the inner
forearm. Also the top button of the coat was very much worn, and the
next one slightly.

"A-ha!" said I to myself, "I've nailed you, my friend. You're a
desk-clerk, and you write all day long, standing at a desk. The worn top
button rubs against your desk as you stand, which it would not do were
you seated."

With a pardonable curiosity to learn if I were right, I opened
conversation with the young man. He was not unwilling to respond,
and after a few questions I learned, to my chagrin, that he was a
photographer. Alas for my deductions! But surely, Fleming Stone himself
would not have guessed a photographer from a worn and shiny coat-sleeve.
At the risk of being rudely personal, I made some reference to fashions
in coats. The young man smiled and remarked incidentally, that owing to
certain circumstances he was at the moment wearing his brother's coat.

"And is your brother a desk clerk?" inquired I almost involuntarily:

He gave me a surprised glance, but answered courteously enough, "Yes;"
and the conversation flagged.

Exultantly I thought that my deduction, though rather an obvious one,
was right; but after another furtive glance at the young man, I realized
that Stone would have known he was wearing another's coat, for it was
the most glaring misfit in every way.

Once more I tried, and directed my attention to a middle-aged,
angular-looking woman, whose strong, sharp-featured face betokened a
prim spinster, probably at the head of a girls' school, or engaged in
some clerical work. However, as I passed her on my way to leave the
train I noticed a wedding-ring on her hand, and heard her say to her
companion, "No; I think a woman's sphere is in her own kitchen and
nursery. How could I think otherwise, with my six children to bring
up?" After these lamentable failures, I determined not to trust much to
deduction in the case I was about to investigate, but to learn actual
facts from actual evidence.

I reached West Sedgwick, as Donovan had said, at quarter before eleven.
Though I had never been there before, the place looked q