the
barest necessaries. Its centre was occupied by an oilcloth-covered
table, on which I observed with surprise a dismembered "Bee" clock (the
works of which had been taken apart with a tin-opener that lay beside
them) and a box-wood bird-call. At these objects Thorndyke glanced and
nodded, as though they fitted into some theory that he had formed;
examined carefully the oilcloth around the litter of wheels and pinions,
and then proceeded on a tour of inspection round the room, peering
inquisitively into the kitchen and store-cupboard.

"Nothing very distinctive or personal here," he remarked. "Let us go
upstairs."

There were three bedrooms on the upper floor, of which two were
evidently disused, though the windows were wide open. The third bedroom
showed manifest traces of occupation, though it was as bare as the
others, for the water still stood in the wash-hand basin, and the bed
was unmade. To the latter Thorndyke advanced, and, having turned back
the bedclothes, examined the interior attentively, especially at the
foot and the pillow. The latter was soiled--not to say grimy--though the
rest of the bed-linen was quite clean.

"Hair-dye," remarked Thorndyke, noting my glance at it; then he turned
and looked out of the open window. "Can you see the place where Miss
Haldean was sitting to sketch?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied; "there is the place well in view, and you can see
right up the road. I had no idea this house stood so high. From the
three upper windows you can see all over the country excepting through
the wood."

"Yes," Thorndyke rejoined, "and he has probably been in the habit of
keeping watch up here with a telescope or a pair of field-glasses. Well,
there is not much of interest in this room. He kept his effects in a
cabin trunk which stood there under the window. He shaved this morning.
He has a white beard, to judge by the stubble on the shaving-paper, and
that is all. Wait, though. There is a key hanging on that nail. He must
have overlooked that, for it evidently does not belong to this house. It
is an ordinary town latchkey."

He took the key down, and having laid a sheet of notepaper, from his
pocket, on the dressing-table, produced a pin, with which he began
carefully to probe the interior of the key-barrel. Presently there came
forth, with much coaxing, a large ball of grey fluff, which Thorndyke
folded up in the paper with infinite care.

"I suppose we mustn't take away the key," he said