e party we are looking
for left?"

"No, sir. There was nobody in either of these two bottom rooms."

"You are quite certain of that?"

"Perfectly certain."

I took up the ball of paper, unrolled it and spread it out upon the
table. To my disgust it was only the back half of an envelope, and
though it had a few figures dotted about upon it, was of no possible use
to us.

"Nothing there?" asked the Inspector.

"Nothing at all," I answered bitterly, "save a few incomprehensible
figures."

"Well, in that case, we'd better be getting up to the station and see if
they've discovered anything yet."

"Come along, then," I answered. "We must be quick though, for we've lost
a lot of precious time, and every minute counts."

I took up the _Evening Mercury_ and followed him out to the cab, after
having sincerely thanked the hotel proprietor and the barman for their
courtesy. The Inspector gave the driver his orders and we set off. As we
went we discussed our next movements, and while we were doing so I idly
glanced at the paper I held in my hand. There was a lamp in the cab, and
the light showed me on the bottom right-hand corner a round blue
india-rubber stamp mark, "W. E. Maxwell, stationer and newsagent, 23,
Ipswell Street, Woolahra."

"Stop the cab!" I almost shouted. "Tell the man to drive us back to the
_Canary Bird_ quickly."

The order was given, the cab faced round, and in less than a minute we
were on our way back.

"What's up now?" asked the astonished Inspector.

"Only that I believe I've got a clue," I cried.

I did not explain any further, and in five minutes we had brought the
landlord downstairs again.

"I'm sorry to trouble you in this fashion," I cried, "but life and death
depend on it. I want you to let me see No. 5 again."

He conducted us to the room, and once more the gas was lit. The small
strip of envelope lay upon the table just as I had thrown it down. I
seated myself and again looked closely at it. Then I sprang to my feet.

"I thought so!" I cried excitedly, pointing to the paper; "I told you I
had a clue. Now, Mr. Inspector, who wrote those figures?"

"The man you call Nikola, I suppose."

"That's right. Now who would have bought this newspaper? You must
remember that Thompson only left his box to come in here."

"Nikola, I suppose."

"Very good. Then according to your own showing Nikola owned this piece
of envelope and this _Evening Mercury_. If that is certain, look here!"