"What, you're as warm as all that and can't guess the rest!" I frowned, a little annoyed. It is a little annoying to be told that something is under your nose that you don't see. "As for that bullet-hole in the roof----" I hazarded. "Bullet-hole in the roof? There never was a bullet-hole in the roof. The branch did that. Westbury had the bullet all right. By the way, I saw him last Sunday morning. Going great guns. He'll end up as our first Bolshevist Premier. Quite the biggest crowd in the Park." Here Monty chuckled. It was he who had first discovered the final effect of the Case on the House and Estate Agent. He had come upon him one Sunday morning in the space just within the Marble Arch, standing on a box and holding forth passionately on social inequalities and equal opportunities for all. I am afraid he had never got over the unconscious trouncing Billy Mackwith had administered on that coroner's jury, and the collapse of his righteous cause, ending in Inspector Webster's refusal to have him hanging about the Police Station any longer, had completely upset his mental balance. He declaims from his box until the opening-time of the public-houses, and then adjourns, box and all, to the establishment near the Marble Arch Tube Station. Here he is as well known as he formerly was in the King's Road; but whether he has his private billiard cue there I do not know. "Well, I give it up, Philip," I yielded at last. "I claim my single point, though--that it was news to you that Mrs. Rooke knew." Philip rose. "Then come along," he said. "We must get it over before Chummy comes back. Light the candle, somebody." He led the way to the cellar door. VII "Why, you've changed it all!" was Monty Rooke's first exclamation as Philip stood there with the candle held at arm's-length. As for myself, I was looking round the dark, clammy place with a positive passion of curiosity. That it had been rearranged I knew at once from Monty's former description of it. The dust-sheeted furniture and packing-cases had been pushed back against the walls, leaving the middle of the floor clear, and once more the candlelight barely penetrated into the gloomy recesses. It showed Philip's face, too, serious, but not to the complete exclusion of a certain quiet satisfaction and triumph. And in Hubbard's sailor eyes I fancied I already saw the dawning of comprehension. "No I haven't--that is, I've only changed it back again as it was," Philip replied. "I told you I'd been moving furniture that morning.... Well, do you want to lose a bet, Cecil?" Hubbard spoke oddly quietly. "No. I'll win one," he said. "Ah! Then you're barred.... Take this, somebody, and you fellows wait here. I shall be back in a minute." He thrust into my hand the candle, which he instantly blew out, leaving us in sudden and pitchy darkness.