ed the commissioner,
but the colonel could honestly say that he did not. Its presence on the
body had frequently puzzled him and he had never found a solution.

"There is a certain type of ruffian to be found, particularly in Paris,
who affects this sort of theatrical trade-mark--did you know that?"
asked the commissioner.

The colonel was suddenly stricken to silence. He did not know this fact,
in spite of his extraordinary knowledge of the criminal world.

"These men have their totems and their sign manuals," said the
commissioner. "For example, the apache Flequier, who was executed at
Nantes the other day, invariably left a domino--the double-six--near his
victim."

This was news to the colonel too.

"I've been giving a great deal of thought and time to this case," said
the commissioner, "and I was hoping that perhaps you could help me. The
most workable theory that I can suggest is that this unfortunate man was
destroyed by a French criminal of the class which I have indicated, the
bullying apache type, which is so common in France. Why the murder was
committed," the commissioner fingered his paper-knife carelessly, "what
led to it and who committed it, and more especially who instigated the
crime, are matters which seem to me to defy detection. Do you agree?"

"I quite agree," said the colonel, licking his dry lips.

"Now I suggest to you," said the commissioner, "that your Jack o'
Judgment, whoever he is, is some relation to the dead man."

He spoke slowly and emphatically and the colonel did not raise his eyes
from the desk.

"It is not my business to make life any easier for you," the
commissioner was saying, "or to assist you in any way. But as the Jack
o' Judgment seems to me to be engaged in a wholly illegal practice, and
as I, in my capacity, must suppress illegal practices, I make you a
present of this suggestion."

"That the Jack o' Judgment is related to 'Snow' Gregory?" asked the
colonel huskily.

"That is my suggestion," said the commissioner.

"And you think----"

The commissioner raised his shoulders.

"I think he is your greatest danger, colonel," he said, "far greater
than the police, far greater than the clever minds which are planning to
bring you to the dock and possibly," he added, "to the gallows."

Ordinarily the colonel would have protested at the suggestion in the
speech, protested laughingly or with dignity, but now he was stricken
dumb, both by the seriousness of the com