“I know what you would say,” Nick again interrupted. “But given the right type of man, Chick, the reverse subterfuge would be just as feasible--a man with an effeminate, mobile, and beardless face, a man with medium figure and consistent voice, together with the subtle art required for such an assumption. We have met just that type of man, Chick, both of us.” “I cannot recall him,” Chick declared. “Whom do you mean?” “The man of whom Wilhelmina Strickland has been living in fear since he, by this same artifice, made his escape from a prison hospital,” Nick replied. “The man of whom, though unidentified when she saw him in female attire, she felt an immediate aversion and dread--that is, upon first seeing Pauline Perrot.” “H’m, I see!” Chick muttered. “Mina Strickland’s sensitive nature and feminine intuition were more keen than her eyes,” Nick added. “They were far more keen than the eyes of Arthur Gordon. The man I mean, Chick, is a past master of the art of personal disguise and character assumption, and so clever and versatile a crook that for years he eluded the European police and----” “Oh, I’ve got you,” Chick interrupted. “You mean Mortimer Deland.” “Exactly.” “He and Pauline Perrot are one and the same.” “As sure as you’re a foot high.” “This French letter, then, is a forgery?” “Undoubtedly,” said Nick. “Deland is an expert penman. We long have known that. He is wanted in Paris for forging the signature of the prefect of police, a trick by which he escaped from brief custody.” “Also the letter sent to Miss Strickland?” “A forgery, Chick, surely.” “You may be right, by Jove, though it seems almost incredible,” said Chick. “We shall find I am right,” replied the detective confidently. “My money goes on that, chief,” declared Patsy. “But what’s the game, aside from the robbery?” Chick questioned, pointing to the bloodstained articles. “What’s the meaning of these?” “That’s what we must discover, as well as the present whereabouts of Deland and his confederates,” said Nick. “Arthur Gordon undoubtedly is a prisoner in their clutches. He knows nothing about the robbery, nor about the case, as we now see it.” “You reason----” “That he was in some way trapped by the supposed Pauline Perrot, and it’s up to us to discover how,” Nick went on. “This evidence has obviously been planted only to denote that Gordon has killed his supposed female stenographer. Deland’s deeper game is, I suspect, to subsequently bleed wealthy old Rudolph Strickland out of more money, by approaching him in some crafty way with an offer to produce Gordon and positive evidence of his innocence.” “Gee whiz! that looks dead right to me,” put in Patsy. “Mr. Strickland would give up handsomely for the sake of his niece and Mr. Gordon.” “Undoubtedly, under such circumstances,” Nick nodded. “He would, moreover, be a very easy mark. By the way, Chick, did you verify Beckwith’s statements by talking with Dayton?”