in. About the fifth barn I
tried I found a place for Henry and then I went back to get him, and
he was gone!"

"And no clue?" asked Mr. Gubb.

"This tag end of the rope," said Greasy Gus. "And that's all I know
about where Henry went, but my idee is somebody come along and seen
him there and just thought he'd have a pig cheap."

"It's a pretty hard case to work onto," said Mr. Gubb doubtfully.
"Somebody might have come along with a wagon and loaded him in."

"Sure!" said Mr. Smith. "No telling at all. That's why I come to you.
If he was where I could fall over him, I wouldn't need a detective,
would I? And if you find Henry I'll just give you these four
five-dollar bills. I'm no millionaire, but I'll blow that much for
the satisfaction of getting back at Three-Finger Watts. Is it a go?"

"Under them certain specifications," said Mr. Gubb, using the exact
words he had used before, "I can take up the case and get right to
work onto it."

Mr. Smith shook hands to bind the bargain and departed.

He had hardly disappeared before Mr. Alibaba Singh opened the door
cautiously, put his head inside and then entered.

"I thought that man would stay forever," he said with annoyance. "He
isn't in any way interested in my affairs or in the affairs of Mrs.
Henry K. Lippett, is he?"

"Nobody has been here that is interested into anything you are
interested into in the slightest form or manner," Mr. Gubb assured
him, and Alibaba Singh sighed with relief.

"You never knew Henry K. Lippett, did you?" he asked.

"Never at all," said Mr. Gubb.

"He broke his neck," said Alibaba Singh, "and it killed him."

He hesitated and seemed lost in thought. He drew himself together
sharply.

"It isn't _possible_!" he exclaimed with irritation and with no
connection with what he had just said. "I _don't_ believe it! I--I--"

His distress was great. He wrung one hand inside the other. He almost
wept.

"Mr. Gubb," he said, "since I was here I have been up to Mrs.
Lippett's house again, and it is worse than ever. It can't be
possible! I haven't the power. I know I haven't the power."

"You'd ought to try to explain yourself more plain to your
deteckative," said Mr. Gubb.

"I'll tell you everything!" said Alibaba Singh in a sudden burst of
confidence. "Mr. Gubb, I am an impostor. I am a fraud. I am not a
Hindoo. My name is Guffins, James Guffins. I did sleight-of-hand stuff
in a Bowery show. I took up this mystic, yogi, Hindoo stuf