“I then returned to my desk and began my letters. Unable to recall the precise address of the man I was about to write, however, I stepped into the general office to get it from the bookkeeper. I then learned from Vernon what had occurred, Nick, and that was the first I knew of it, and all that I know of it.” “You attempted, I understand, to find the stranger with whom you had been talking.” “Yes, naturally,” nodded Clayton. “When told so positively that I had taken the jewel cases, it quickly occurred to me that I might find it necessary to establish an alibi. The stranger is the only person who can corroborate my assertions. I rushed out of the office to find him, therefore, but he had disappeared.” “That is unfortunate,” said Nick. “Not that I personally doubt your statements, Clayton, but because his corroboration of them would dispel misgivings from the minds of others, some quite closely associated with you.” “I realize that, Nick, most keenly,” Clayton said gravely. “It seems utterly incredible to me, nevertheless, that Mr. Clayton has misrepresented anything, or is capable of such a crime,” Doctor Guelpa remarked, quite forcibly. “I really will never believe it.” “Thank you, doctor,” Clayton said quickly, bowing. “Describe the man with whom you talked, Clayton,” Nick directed. “He is an ordinary type of man, Nick, apparently about sixty years old. He has dark hair and a full beard, sprinkled with gray. He is quite tall and of rather slender build. He talked and appeared like a gentleman.” “He wore a full beard, did he?” “Yes.” “It’s ten to one, then, that he was disguised.” Doctor Guelpa laughed audibly. “I hope you don’t imply, Mr. Carter, that one in every ten men that wear a full beard is in disguise,” said he jestingly. “I have, as you see, quite a profuse growth of whiskers.” “Not at all, doctor,” Nick replied, smiling. “Under the circumstances involved, however, I always distrust bearded men.” “Yes, yes, to be sure,” nodded the physician. “I appreciate the point, of course.” “Can you recall in the stranger, Clayton, as you now remember him, any characteristic in voice, figure, or manner of speech, resembling that of either of the masked men whom you encountered three months ago?” Nick inquired. “I cannot say that I do, Nick.” “Well, one fact is obvious,” said the detective. “If you are not mentally wrong, Clayton, and I see no indications of it, and if your statements are true, of which I personally have not the slightest doubt, this crime was committed by a man closely resembling----” Nick was interrupted by a quick, insistent knock on the hall door. Mademoiselle Falloni’s maid, who then was standing near by, hastened to open it. Madame Escobar uttered a cry, with countenance lighting, and started up from her chair. “Courage!” she cried, addressing Mademoiselle Falloni. “Some one brings news--good news, perhaps! Courage, Helena!”