The new proprietor of Lee and Hol was a short-sighted, elderly man of no great conversational power, and apparently of no fixed purpose in life except to say "no" to the very handsome offers which the colonel's agents made when they discovered there was a chance of re-purchasing the business. Boundary had personally inspected all the offices. He had found an excuse to visit them several times, duly noted the arrangement of the furniture, the sizes of the staffs and the general character of the business which was being carried on. This was a necessary precaution because these offices were immediately under his own flat. But just now they had a special value, because it was a practice during the daytime for the three firms to employ a commissionaire, who occupied a little glass-partitioned office on the landing and attended impartially to the needs of all three tenants to the best of his ability. Boundary descended the stairs and found the elderly man in his office, leisurely and laboriously affixing stamps to a pile of letters. He called him from his task. "Judson," he said, "have you seen anybody go up to my rooms this afternoon?" The man thought. "No, sir, I haven't," he replied. "Have you been here all the time?" "Yes, since one o'clock I have been in my office," said the commissionaire. "None of our young gentlemen wanted anything." "You didn't go out to go to the post?" "No, sir," said the man. "I've not stirred from this office except for one minute when I went into Mr. Lee's office to get these letters." "And you've seen nobody go upstairs?" "Not since Mr. Silva came down, sir. He came down after you, if you remember." "Nobody's been up?" insisted the other. "Not a soul. Your servant came down before you, sir." "That's true," said the colonel remembering that he had sent the man on a special journey to Huddersfield with a letter to the bigamous Mr. Crotin. "You haven't seen a lady go up at all?" he asked suddenly. "Nobody has gone up them stairs," said the commissionaire emphatically. "I hope you haven't lost anything, sir?" The colonel shook his head. "No, I haven't lost anything. Rather, I've found something," he said grimly. He slipped half-a crown into the man's hand. "You needn't mention the fact that I've been making inquiries," he said and went slowly up the stairs again. The card had been put there that day. He would swear it. The ink on the card had not had time to darken and when he made a further search of his room, this view was confirmed by the appearance of his blotting-pad. The card had been dried there, and the pen, which had been left on the table, was still damp.