thing?" he continued, his
gruff voice assuming a note of triumph, "the most important in all
this damnable business?"

"What have I forgotten, Will?" asked the other not at all ruffled by
the gallant colonel's sudden tone of contempt.

"The weapon, Tom!"

"I haven't forgotten the weapon," rejoined Sir Thomas calmly.

"Oh, yes, you have! Do you mean to tell me that Luke de Mountford
habitually walks about the streets of London with an Italian stiletto
in his trousers pocket? for I am told that it was with a thing of that
sort that the murder was committed. Or according to you did Luke
escort Louisa to a dinner-party with the avowed intention at the back
of his mind of committing a murder later on if occasion offered? Did
he bring an Italian stiletto from home when he came to meet his
fiancee at the Langham Hotel, or did he buy one on the way to the
Veterans' Club? Which of these cock-and-bull theories do you hold,
Tom?"

"Neither," admitted Sir Thomas with a placid smile.

"Then," concluded Colonel Harris contemptuously, "you think that Luke
was--as I said--in the habit of carrying an Italian stiletto in his
trousers pocket?"

"No," rejoined the other, still unruffled, "but I know that Luke de
Mountford is in the habit of carrying a snake-wood walking stick,
which he once bought--years ago--somewhere abroad, and the top of
which contains a short pointed dagger which fits into the body of the
stick. And what's more you know that stick too, Will; you have often
seen it. Are you prepared to swear that Luke hadn't it with him last
night?"

"He hadn't it with him."

"You are prepared to swear to that?" insisted the other earnestly.

Colonel Harris was silent. For the first time since the beginning of
this long interview he felt as if all the blood in his body was
receding back to his heart causing it to beat so wildly that he
thought it was about to choke him. The colour fled from his cheeks and
the cigar dropped from between nerveless fingers. Swift as lightning a
recollection came back to him--a vision of Luke entering the
sitting-room of the Langham Hotel with his coat on and his hat and
stick in the left hand.

But he would not give in even now--not on such paltry surmises. Any
number of men he knew carried sticks that contained weapons of
self-defence. He himself possessed a very murderous-looking swordstick
which he had once bought in Paris. He fought down this oncoming attack
of weakness, and blamed hi