ng the port, but with no more, luck than
before. The case seemed rapidly going from bad to worse, and already it
had been suggested that I should give it up and return to my duty
without further waste of time. This, as you may naturally suppose, I had
no desire to do.

I worried myself about it day and night, giving it a great deal more
attention in fact than I should bestow upon such a matter now, or even
upon cases of twice the importance. If there had been nothing else in my
favour, my attention to duty should have been sufficient to have
commended me to my superiors. It was the other way round, however. The
Press were twitting the authorities concerning their inability to
discover the murderer, and more than hinted at the inefficiency of the
Detective Force. When I had been engaged upon the matter for about a
fortnight, and with what success I have already informed you, the
Commissioner sent for me, and told me that he did not think my
qualifications were sufficiently marked to warrant my being employed
longer on the task in hand. This facer, coming upon the top of all the
hard work I had been doing, and possibly my nerves were somewhat
strained by my anxiety, led me to say more than I intended. Though a man
may have the bad luck to fail in a thing, he seldom likes to be reminded
of it. It was certainly so in my case. Consequently I was informed that
at the end of the month my connection with the Queensland Police would
terminate.

"Very well, sir," I said, "in the meantime, if you will give me the
opportunity, I will guarantee to catch the murderer and prove to you
that I am not as incapable as you imagine."

I have often wondered since that I was not ordered back to the Bush
there and then. The fact remains, however, that I was not, and thus I
was permitted to continue my quest unhindered.

Ever since I had first taken the affair in hand I had had one point
continually before my eyes. The mere fact that the man had been stabbed
in the back seemed to me sufficient proof that the assassin was of
foreign origin, and that the affair was the outcome of a vendetta, and
not the act of an ordinary bloodthirsty crime. The wound, so the doctors
informed me, was an extremely deep and narrow one, such as might very
well have been made by a stiletto. Assuming my supposition to be
correct, I returned to the house, and once more overhauled the dead
man's effects. There was little or nothing there, however, to help me.
If he