--especially the white ones."

Bray grunted, and opened his little eyes. I took up the issue of the
following day--the twenty-eighth:

"RANGOON: We have been forced to sell father's stick-pin--the emerald
scarab he brought home from Cairo."

I had Bray's interest now. He leaned heavily toward me, puffing. Greatly
excited, I held before his eyes the issue of the twenty-ninth:

"RANGOON: Homburg hat gone forever--caught by a breeze--into the river."

"And finally," said I to the inspector, "the last message of all, in the
issue of the thirtieth of July--on sale in the streets some twelve hours
before Fraser-Freer was murdered. See!"

"RANGOON: To-night at ten. Regent Street. --Y.O.G."

Bray was silent.

"I take it you are aware, Inspector," I said, "that for the past two
years Captain Fraser-Freer was stationed at Rangoon."

Still he said nothing; just looked at me with those foxy little eyes
that I was coming to detest. At last he spoke sharply:

"Just how," he demanded, "did you happen to discover those messages? You
were not in this room last night after I left?" He turned angrily to the
constable. "I gave orders--"

"No," I put in; "I was not in this room. I happened to have on file in
my rooms copies of the Mail, and by the merest chance--"

I saw that I had blundered. Undoubtedly my discovery of those messages
was too pat. Once again suspicion looked my way.

"Thank you very much," said Bray. "I'll keep this in mind."

"Have you communicated with my friend at the consulate?" I asked.

"Yes. That's all. Good morning."

So I went.

I had been back in my room some twenty minutes when there came a knock
on the door, and Colonel Hughes entered. He was a genial man, in the
early forties I should say, tanned by some sun not English, and gray at
the temples.

"My dear sir," he said without preamble, "this is a most appalling
business!"

"Decidedly," I answered. "Will you sit down?"

"Thank you." He sat and gazed frankly into my eyes. "Policemen," he
added meaningly, "are a most suspicious tribe--often without reason. I
am sorry you happen to be involved in this affair, for I may say that
I fancy you to be exactly what you seem. May I add that, if you should
ever need a friend, I am at your service?"

I was touched; I thanked him as best I could. His tone was so
sympathetic and before I realized it I was telling him the whole
story--of Archie and his letter; of my falling in love with a garden; of