"I am an ex-solicitor, struck off in connexion with the falsifying of a trust account, Mr. Carrados," replied Carlyle, rising. "Sit down, Louis," said Carrados suavely. His face, even his incredibly living eyes, beamed placid good-nature. "The chair on which you will sit, the roof above you, all the comfortable surroundings to which you have so amiably alluded, are the direct result of falsifying a trust account. But do I call you 'Mr. Carlyle' in consequence? Certainly not, Louis." "I did not falsify the account," cried Carlyle hotly. He sat down however, and added more quietly: "But why do I tell you all this? I have never spoken of it before." "Blindness invites confidence," replied Carrados. "We are out of the running--human rivalry ceases to exist. Besides, why shouldn't you? In my case the account _was_ falsified." "Of course that's all bunkum, Max" commented Carlyle. "Still, I appreciate your motive." "Practically everything I possess was left to me by an American cousin, on the condition that I took the name of Carrados. He made his fortune by an ingenious conspiracy of doctoring the crop reports and unloading favourably in consequence. And I need hardly remind you that the receiver is equally guilty with the thief." "But twice as safe. I know something of that, Max ... Have you any idea what my business is?" "You shall tell me," replied Carrados. "I run a private inquiry agency. When I lost my profession I had to do something for a living. This occurred. I dropped my name, changed my appearance and opened an office. I knew the legal side down to the ground and I got a retired Scotland Yard man to organize the outside work." "Excellent!" cried Carrados. "Do you unearth many murders?" "No," admitted Mr. Carlyle; "our business lies mostly on the conventional lines among divorce and defalcation." "That's a pity," remarked Carrados. "Do you know, Louis, I always had a secret ambition to be a detective myself. I have even thought lately that I might still be able to do something at it if the chance came my way. That makes you smile?" "Well, certainly, the idea----" "Yes, the idea of a blind detective--the blind tracking the alert--" "Of course, as you say, certain facilities are no doubt quickened," Mr. Carlyle hastened to add considerately, "but, seriously, with the exception of an artist, I don't suppose there is any man who is more utterly dependent on his eyes."