“Well, no, I really don’t think I can,” Dayton drawled thoughtfully. “I can ’it mighty near it, though.” “What time would you say, Mr. Dayton?” “Well, I lunched late with Percy Brigham, a Lunnon friend ’oo is over ’ere. It must ’ave been four o’clock when I left him. I’d say it was quarter past four when I saw Mr. Gordon, then leaving his office. I was unlocking my door, and he passed right by me.” “Are you acquainted with him?” “Yaas, in a small way.” “Did he speak when passing?” “No, he did not, the which ’it me kind of funny,” said Dayton. “He looked a bit bunged up by something, I thought, so I didn’t speak to him. He went round to the back corridor, don’t you know, and that was the last I saw of him.” “You told Beckwith, I think, that he was carrying a suit case.” “Yaas, so he was,” Dayton quickly nodded. “A leather suit case, and I thought he must be going away.” “Did you observe anything else about him?” Chick inquired. “Did he appear pale, or as if mentally disturbed?” “Waal, yaas, I’d say he looked a bit punk around the ears,” Dayton drawled slowly. “I wouldn’t want you to bank too ’eavy on what I’m saying, though, for I saw him only a moment, don’t you know. I don’t think as ’ow I can add to it.” Chick Carter was of the same opinion. There was something very insipid in this Englishman’s voice and manner, aside from his expressive eyes, and despite that he somehow impressed Chick as one whom he had seen before, the latter decided that he had nothing to gain by interrogating him further. Chick thanked him for his information, therefore, then arose and departed. Seeking the street, he hailed the first taxicab he could see, and at once started for the Gordon residence to report to Nick. Mr. Edgar Hereford Dayton sat for a long time gazing at his desk. The minutes crept away far more rapidly than he imagined. All the while, too, his eyes had a gleam and glitter doubly intense than before. He arose, at length, and shook his fist at the closed door. Then, opening the wardrobe closet, he drew out a suit case, into which, with what it already contained, he crowded--a blue dress, hat, and veil, a woman’s underskirt, and smaller articles that scarce need mention. CHAPTER V. THE MAN WITH A DOG. Nick Carter had a keen eye for faces, remarkably keen, and that of the man encountered while he was returning to the Gordon residence did not appeal favorably to the discerning detective. It was an angular, swarthy face, with a sinister expression accentuated by several days’ growth of stubby beard, and a certain sly, shifty light in the fellow’s eyes aroused in Nick a feeling of suspicion. Suppressing any betrayal of it, nevertheless, he exhibited an immediate interest in the bloodstained articles the man was displaying, asking earnestly, while he subdued Patsy Garvan with a significant nudge: “When did you find these, my man?”