swered.
"It's--progressing."

I told Miss Raven of this little conversation. She and I were often
together in the library; we often discussed the mystery of the
murders.

"What was there, really, on the lid of the tobacco-box?" she asked.
"Anything that could actually arouse curiosity?"

"I think Mr. Cazalette exaggerated their importance," I replied, "but
there were certainly some marks, scratches, which seemed to have been
made by design."

"And what," she asked again, "did Mr. Cazalette think they might
mean?"

"Heaven knows!" I answered. "Some deep and dark clue to Quick's
murder, I suppose."

"I wish I had seen the tobacco-box," she remarked. "Interesting,
anyway."

"That's easy enough," said I. "The police have it--and all the rest of
Quick's belongings. If we walked over to the police-station, the
inspector would willingly show it to you."

I saw that this proposition attracted her--she was not beyond feeling
something of the fascination which is exercised upon some people by
the inspection of the relics of strange crimes.

"Let us go, then," she said. "This afternoon?"

I had a mind, myself, to have another look at that tobacco-box; Mr.
Cazalette's hints about it, and his mysterious secrecy regarding his
photographic experiments, made me inquisitive. So after lunch that day
Miss Raven and I walked across country to the police-station, where we
were shown into the presence of the inspector, who, in the midst of
his politeness, frankly showed his wonder at our pilgrimage.

"We have come with an object," said I, giving him an informing glance.
"Miss Raven, like most ladies, is not devoid of curiosity. She wishes
to see that metal tobacco-box which was found on Salter Quick."

The inspector laughed.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "The thing that the old gentleman--what's his
name? Mr. Cazalette?--was so keen about photographing. Why, I don't
know--I saw nothing but two or three surface scratches inside the lid.
Has he discovered anything?"

"That," I answered, "is only known to Mr. Cazalette himself. He
preserves a strict silence on that point. He is very mysterious about
the matter. It is his secrecy, and his mystery, that makes Miss Raven
inquisitive."

"Well," remarked the inspector, indulgently, "it's a curiosity that
can very easily be satisfied. I've got all Quick's belongings
here--just as they were put together after being exhibited before the
coroner." He unlocked a cupboard and pointed to two b