s question explained it. Cousin Bill was
clearly Number Five in the Anthropological Series. In fact, the
resemblance was quite remarkable. The present example, like the late
Bill, was an undergrown creature, and had the same curiously-twisted
nose, the same asymmetrical face and similar ears--large, flat ears that
stood out from his head like the handles of an amphora, that had
strongly marked Darwinian tubercles, unformed helices and undeveloped
lobules. Lombroso would have loved him. He would have made a delightful
photograph for purposes of illustration, and--it suddenly occurred to
me--he would make a most interesting companion preparation to Number
Five.

"'Your Cousin Bill,' I said, with this new idea in my mind. 'Was he the
son of your mother's sister?' (A few details as to heredity add
materially to the value and instructiveness of a specimen.)

"'And supposin' he was. What about it? I want to know what you've been
and done with 'im.'

"'What makes you think I have done anything with him?' I asked.

"'Why, I see 'im go into your 'ouse and I never see 'im come out.'

"'But, my good man,' I protested, 'that is exceedingly bad logic. If you
saw him go in, there is a fair presumption that he went in--'

"'I see 'im with my own eyes,' my friend interrupted, as though there
were other alternative means of vision.

"'But,' I continued, 'the fact that you did not see him come out
establishes no presumption that he did not come out. He may have come
out unobserved.'

"'No, he didn't. He never come out. I see 'im go in--'

"'So you have mentioned. May I ask what his business was?'

"'His business,' my acquaintance replied with some hesitation, 'was of a
private nature.'

"'I see. Did he go in by the front door?'

"'No, 'e didn't. 'E went in by the scullery window.'

"'In the evening, no doubt?'

"'Two hay hem,' was the reply.

"'Ah!' said I. 'He went in by the scullery window at two A.M. on private
business. Quite so! Well, you see, the common sense of the position is
that if he went into the house and never came out, he must be in the
house still."

"'That's just what I think,' my friend agreed.

"'Very well. Then in that case perhaps you would like to step in and
look round to see if you can find him.' I took out my latch-key and
motioned invitingly towards the museum door.

"'No yer don't,' exclaimed the man, backing away hastily down the
street. 'Yer don't git me in there, so I tell yer straight