ey had increased, and how
they had been confirmed. He explained by what series of deductions he
had succeeded in establishing a theory which, if it was not the
truth, was at least plausible enough to serve as the basis for further
investigation.

Then he enumerated the articles of conviction ranged on the table before
him. There were the flakes of brown wool collected upon the plank, the
valuable earring, the models of the different footprints in the garden,
and the Widow Chupin's apron with its pockets turned inside out. There
was also the murderer's revolver, with two barrels discharged and three
still loaded. This weapon, although not of an ornamental character, was
still a specimen of highly finished workmanship. It bore the name of one
Stephens, 14 Skinner Street, a well-known London gunsmith.

Lecoq felt convinced that by examining the bodies of the victims he
would obtain other and perhaps very valuable information; but he did not
dare venture upon such a course. Besides his own inexperience in such a
matter, there was Gevrol to be thought of, and the inspector, furious
at his own mistake, would not fail to declare that, by changing the
attitude of the bodies, Lecoq had rendered a satisfactory examination by
the physicians impossible.

The young detective accordingly tried to console himself for his forced
inaction in this respect, and he was rereading his report, modifying
a few expressions, when Father Absinthe, who was standing upon the
threshold of the outer door, called to him.

"Is there anything new?" asked Lecoq.

"Yes," was the reply. "Here come Gevrol and two of our comrades with the
commissary of police and two other gentlemen."

It was, indeed, the commissary who was approaching, interested but
not disturbed by this triple murder which was sure to make his
arrondissement the subject of Parisian conversation during the next few
days. Why, indeed, should he be troubled about it? For Gevrol, whose
opinion in such matters might be regarded as an authority, had taken
care to reassure him when he went to arouse him from his slumbers.

"It was only a fight between some old offenders; former jail birds,
habitues of the Poivriere," he had said, adding sententiously: "If all
these ruffians would kill one another, we might have some little peace."

He added that as the murderer had been arrested and placed in
confinement, there was nothing urgent about the case. Accordingly, the
commissary thought there