“I will aid you wiz pleasure, monsieur,” he said readily. “Walk into my office, please, both of you. Ze devil must have been abroad last night, ze wolf in ze lamb’s clothing. _Pardieu!_ your case is not all, Monsieur Carter. There is another.” “Another, Mr. Perrot?” questioned Nick. “What do you mean?” “Wait! I will bring my books,” said Perrot, turning to enter an outer office. “I will bring my books--and ze letter!” “Gee! this looks like something more in the wind,” remarked Patsy. “I am more inclined to think that all relates to one job,” Nick replied. “It would be strange, indeed, if there were two at just this time and place. We can presently tell.” Perrot returned while Nick was speaking, bringing a book containing the daily record of his rented costumes, and over his arm--the costume of a Mexican toreador, seen by Nick the previous night, and worn by the man who had slipped the forged note into the hands of Mollie Waldmere. “H’m! I thought so,” Nick quietly remarked to Patsy, at once recognizing the costume. “There is but one job, in which all of these costumes figure. I will stake my reputation on that.” “Ziss was returned to me ziss morning by a messenger,” said Perrot, laying the costume on a table. “In ze pocket of ze blouse was found ziss sheet of paper, on which is written--but you shall see. You shall see for yourself, Monsieur Carter.” He turned to an open roll-top desk, from which he took a somewhat crumpled scrap of paper, evidently torn from a notebook. Written on it with a lead pencil were the following lines: “DEAR OLD PAL: I am waiting with the car where you directed. Bring the gink out quickly, or a gun may move me on. Land him in the car, pal, and I’ll do the rest. I’ve got the stuff to quiet him until we can slip him the steel. I’ll pick you up as directed. Have the cat land him and there’ll be nothing to it. TOBY.” Nick Carter frowned while he read this communication, so suggestive of sanguinary designs. Had it been written by the driver of the limousine in which Waldmere was seen to depart with an unknown woman? Was it she referred to as the cat? Had the note been sent in to the wearer of the toreador costume? Had he slipped it into the pocket and inadvertently left it there when returning the costume? Naturally, of course, these questions at once arose in Nick’s mind, and they seemed to compel affirmative answers. He gave the note to Patsy to read, then turned to Perrot and inquired: “When was this costume returned?” “A messenger brought it about an hour ago,” said Perrot. “My girl Marie found the paper in the pocket and brought it to me. It was not there when the costume went out. We are sure of that, Monsieur Carter.” “Who had the costume last night?”