“I want one look at the grounds near that bulkhead door,” he observed, replying to Chick. “It will show whether Toulon put up any struggle with his three assailants, if there really were three.” “You doubt that, also?” questioned Chick. “I doubt most of what Toulon stated.” “You took extraordinary care to hide your distrust,” replied Chick, smiling. “Bet you!” said Nick tersely. “He was the best thread I could pick up, if not the only seemingly reliable one, and I made sure of keeping him in the dark.” “But why did you suspect him so quickly?” “Because he, or a counterpart of him, had been to Clayton’s room,” Nick explained. “I no sooner began to question him, Chick, than I felt sure I was right.” “Why so?” “First, because he has worked only two weeks for Lenaire. That smacks of having got the job with a view to assisting in this crime.” “I see,” Chick nodded. “He betrayed himself a moment later by the readiness in which he explained how the knave who had impersonated him could have learned of Lenaire’s message to Vandyke.” “By listening under the dining-room window.” “Exactly. His readiness showed plainly that he was prepared with that explanation.” “True. I suspected that, also your own designs, when you agreed with him so quickly and remarked to me that he had cleared up that point for us.” “I knew you would, of course,” said Nick. “I then questioned him about the short smoke he came out to enjoy. He said it was from a cigarette and that he is in the habit of using them. He lied. The fingers of a habitual cigarette smoker of his class are invariably discolored with nicotine. There was not the slightest sign of it on his.” “Good work, Nick.” “I clinched it by carelessly asking him what kind he smoked,” Nick added. “He hesitated, and then said any old kind. He could not think of the name of one. Whoever heard of a cigarette smoker who could not instantly state what kind he habitually buys?” “Good work again, old man.” “I then pretended I wanted one,” Nick went on, smiling. “That caught him again. He had none, but quickly claimed that he had lit his last one and threw away the box. A cigarette smoker always retains the box until he lights his last one. Look around. Toulon could not have thrown a small pasteboard box so far that, if it were out here, we could not see it.” “Surely not,” Chick agreed. “Naturally, Nick, he would merely have tossed it upon the ground.” “Certainly. But it is not here, nor does the ground show any signs of a struggle.” “None whatever.” “He said he was assaulted from behind, but he displayed a bruise on his forehead, said to have been inflicted with a sand bag,” Nick added derisively. “He should have been bruised on the back of his head, if attacked from behind.” “That’s right, too.” “And when I suggested finding on his neck the finger prints of the crook, you saw how quickly he objected and claimed to have been rubbing his neck.” “True again, Nick, and very significant,” Chick nodded.