d on Syrilla's arm were the work of Mr.
Schreckenheim, his case would be complete. He longed for Mr.
Schreckenheim's presence, but, lacking that, he had a happy idea. Mr.
Enderbury, the tattooed man of the side-show, should be a connoisseur
and would perhaps be able to identify the eagle's claws. Leaving
Syrilla still eating, Mr. Gubb entered the side-show tent.

Mr. Enderbury, seated on a blue property case, was engaged in biting
the entire row of finger nails on his right hand, and a frown creased
his brow. He was enwrapped by a long purple bathrobe which tied
closely about his neck. As he caught sight of Mr. Gubb, he started
slightly and doubled his hand into a fist, but he immediately calmed
himself and assumed a nonchalant air. As a matter of fact, Mr.
Enderbury led a dog's life. For years he had loved Syrilla devotedly,
but he was so bashful he had never dared to confess his love to her,
and year after year he saw her smile upon one thin man after another.
Now it was Mr. Lonergan; again it was Mr. Winterberry--or it was Mr.
Gubb, or Smith, or Jones, or Doe; but for Mr. Enderbury she seemed to
have nothing but contempt. Mr. Enderbury had first seen her when she
was posing in the infant incubator, and had loved her even then, for
he was twenty when she was but five. The coming of a new rival always
affected him as the coming of Mr. Gubb had, but for good reason he
hated Mr. Gubb worse than any of the others.

"Excuse me for begging your pardon," said Mr. Gubb, "but in the
deteckative business questions have to be asked. Have you ever chanced
to happen to notice some tattoo work upon the arm of Miss Syrilla of
this side-show?"

"I have," said Mr. Enderbury shortly.

"A pair of eagle's claws," said Mr. Gubb. "Can you tell me, from your
knowledge and belief, if the work there done was the work of a Mr.
Herr Schreckenheim?"

"I can tell you if I want to," said Mr. Enderbury. "What do you want
to know for?"

"If those claws are the work of Mr. Herr Schreckenheim," said Mr.
Gubb, "I am prepared to offer to Miss Syrilla her daughterly place in
a home of wealth at Riverbank, Iowa. If those claws are Schreckenheim
claws, Miss Syrilla is the daughter of Mr. Jonas Medderbrook of the
said burg, beyond the question of a particle of doubt."

Mr. Enderbury looked at Mr. Gubb with surprise.

"That's non--" he began. "And if Schreckenheim did those claws, you'll
take Syrilla away from this show? Forever?" he asked.

"I w