bandbox with a flourish, and brought forth a rather shabby
billycock hat.

"I understand," said he, "that by examining a hat it is possible to
deduce from it, not only the bodily characteristics of the wearer, but
also his mental and moral qualities, his state of health, his pecuniary
position, his past history, and even his domestic relations and the
peculiarities of his place of abode. Am I right in this supposition?"

The ghost of a smile flitted across Thorndyke's face as he laid the hat
upon the remains of the newspaper. "We must not expect too much," he
observed. "Hats, as you know, have a way of changing owners. Your own
hat, for instance" (a very spruce, hard felt), "is a new one, I think."

"Got it last week," said Mr. Loewe.

"Exactly. It is an expensive hat, by Lincoln and Bennett, and I see you
have judiciously written your name in indelible marking-ink on the
lining. Now, a new hat suggests a discarded predecessor. What do you do
with your old hats?"

"My man has them, but they don't fit him. I suppose he sells them or
gives them away."

"Very well. Now, a good hat like yours has a long life, and remains
serviceable long after it has become shabby; and the probability is that
many of your hats pass from owner to owner; from you to the
shabby-genteel, and from them to the shabby ungenteel. And it is a fair
assumption that there are, at this moment, an appreciable number of
tramps and casuals wearing hats by Lincoln and Bennett, marked in
indelible ink with the name S. Loewe; and anyone who should examine those
hats, as you suggest, might draw some very misleading deductions as to
the personal habits of S. Loewe."

Mr. Marchmont chuckled audibly, and then, remembering the gravity of
the occasion, suddenly became portentously solemn.

"So you think that the hat is of no use, after all?" said Mr. Loewe, in a
tone of deep disappointment.

"I won't say that," replied Thorndyke. "We may learn something from it.
Leave it with me, at any rate; but you must let the police know that I
have it. They will want to see it, of course."

"And you will try to get those things, won't you?" pleaded Loewe.

"I will think over the case. But you understand, or Mr. Marchmont does,
that this is hardly in my province. I am a medical jurist, and this is
not a medico-legal case."

"Just what I told him," said Marchmont. "But you will do me a great
kindness if you will look into the matter. Make it a medico-legal case,"