nts, but what you must be awfully
careful in doing in future when you write such epistles," he said, "is
to wash your hands."

"Wash my hands!" repeated the puzzled Fisher.

T. X. nodded.

"You see you left a little thumb print, and we are rather whales on
thumb prints at Scotland Yard, Fisher."

"I see. What is the charge now, sir!"

"I shall make no charge against you except the conventional one of being
a convict under license and failing to report."

Fisher heaved a sigh.

"That'll only mean twelve months. Are you going to charge me with this
business?" he nodded to the paper.

T. X. shook his head.

"I bear you no ill-will although you tried to frighten Miss Bartholomew.
Oh yes, I know it is Miss Bartholomew, and have known all the time. The
lady is there for a reason which is no business of yours or of mine.
I shall not charge you with attempt to blackmail and in reward for my
leniency I hope you are going to tell me all you know about the Kara
murder. You wouldn't like me to charge you with that, would you by any
chance!"

Fisher drew a long breath.

"No, sir, but if you did I could prove my innocence," he said earnestly.
"I spent the whole of the evening in the kitchen."

"Except a quarter of an hour," said T. X.

The man nodded.

"That's true, sir, I went out to see a pal of mine."

"The man who is in this!" asked T. X.

Fisher hesitated.

"Yes, sir. He was with me in this but there was nothing wrong about the
business--as far as we went. I don't mind admitting that I was planning
a Big Thing. I'm not going to blow on it, if it's going to get me into
trouble, but if you'll promise me that it won't, I'll tell you the whole
story."

"Against whom was this coup of yours planned?"

"Against Mr. Kara, sir," said Fisher.

"Go on with your story," nodded T. X.

The story was a short and commonplace one. Fisher had met a man who knew
another man who was either a Turk or an Albanian. They had learnt that
Kara was in the habit of keeping large sums of money in the house and
they had planned to rob him. That was the story in a nutshell. Somewhere
the plan miscarried. It was when he came to the incidents that occurred
on the night of the murder that T. X. followed him with the greatest
interest.

"The old gentleman came in," said Fisher, "and I saw him up to the
room. I heard him coming out and I went up and spoke to him while he was
having a chat with Mr. Kara at the open door."

"Did you