"A queer case, I should say," returns the Chief, half to himself; "and a difficult one. Twenty years ago a man was murdered--killed by a nail driven into his skull. Detectives have hunted for the murderer, singly, in twos and threes. English experts have crossed the ocean to unravel the mystery and it remains a mystery still. And now, when the secret is twenty years old, and the assassin dead and buried, perhaps, you come and ask me for my two best men,--men who have worked together as brothers--and ask me to set their skill _against each other_, in a struggle, which, if it ends as you desire, will mean victory and fortune for the one, defeat and loss of prestige for the other." "There is no such thing as loss of prestige. A man may bow to a superior and yet retain his own skill. Plainly, I have come to you as an honorable man should. I wish to deal with these men through you, if possible. But they are free agents. What you refuse to do for me, I must do for myself; and I tell you plainly, that if money can purchase their services, I will have Van Vernet and Richard Stanhope to work this case." "You are frank, sir! But I have observed that, in relating your story, you have been careful to avoid giving either your own name or the name of the murdered man." "As I shall continue to do until I state the case to the two detectives, _after_ they have enlisted in my service." The Chief ponders for a time and then says: "Now, hear my proposition: you are justified in believing that, if there _is_ a bottom to this ancient mystery, Vernet and Stanhope, singly or together, are the men to find it. That is my belief also. As for your idea of putting them on their mettle, by offering so magnificent a reward to the man who succeeds, _that_ is not bad--for you and the man who wins. Vernet and Stanhope have, this very day, taken in hand two cases,--working separately, understand. If you will wait in patience until these cases are finished, you shall have the men from this office,--if they will accept the case." "Put my proposition before the two men at once. When I know that I shall have their services, I can wait in patience until their duty of the present is done." "Then," said the Chief rising, "the question can soon be settled; Vernet is in the outer office; Stanhope will soon be here. You will find the evening papers upon that desk; try and entertain yourself while I put your case before Vernet." Ten minutes later, Van Vernet was standing before his Chief, listening with bent head, compressed lip, and glowing cheek, to the story of the man who was murdered twenty years before, and to the splendid proposal of the tall stranger. When it was all told, and the Chief paused for a reply, the young detective moved a pace nearer and said with decision: