a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.

"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
both of us."

"But how can we do it?" I asked.

"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"

"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
valuable? or is it possible that----" he began biting his nails and
staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
him until we were in New Street.

* * * * *

At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
Corporation Street to the company's offices.

"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
the very hour he names."

"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.

"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
us there."

He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.

"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
possible."

Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a
horror such as comes to few