fool, for all his cleverness, for you will observe that in his haste,
when he put the revolver in the dead hand to make it appear a case of
suicide, he laid it down just as he himself took it from his pocket,
with the butt toward the victim's body and the muzzle pointing outward
between the thumb and forefinger, and with the bottom of the cylinder,
instead of the top of the trigger, touching the ball of the thumb! It is
a clear case of murder, Mr. Narkom."

"But, sir," interposed the station-master, overhearing this assertion,
and looking at Cleek with eyes of blank bewilderment, "if somebody
killed him, where has that 'somebody' gone? This train has made no stop
until now since it started from London Bridge; so, even if the party was
in it at the start, how in the world could he get out?"

"Maybe he chucked hisself out of the window, guv'ner," suggested Webb;
"or maybe he slipped out and hung on to the footboard until the train
slowed down, and then dropped off just before it come into the station
here."

"Don't talk rubbish, Webb. Both doors were locked and both windows
closed when we discovered the body. You saw that as plainly as I."

"Lummy, sir, so I did. Then where could he a-went to--and how?"

"Station-master," struck in Cleek, turning from examining the body, "get
your men to examine all tickets, both in the train and out of it, and if
there's one that's not clipped as it passed the barrier at London
Bridge, look out for it, and detain the holder. I'll take the gate here,
and examine all local tickets. Meantime, wire all up the road to every
station from here to London Bridge, and find out if any other signalman
than the one at Forest Hill noticed this dark compartment when the train
went past."

Both suggestions were acted upon immediately. But every ticket, save, of
course, the season ones--and the holders of these were in every case
identified--was found to be properly clipped; and, in the end, every
signal-box from New Cross on wired back: "All compartments lighted when
train passed here."

"That narrows the search, Mr. Narkom," said Cleek, when he heard this.
"The lights were put out somewhere between Honor Oak Park and Forest
Hill, and it was between Honor Oak Park and Anerley the murderer made
his escape. Inspector"--he turned to the officer in command of the local
police--"do me a favour. Put your men in charge of this carriage, and
let the train proceed. Norwood Junction is the next station, I