"The finding of the rusty iron pipe settled the matter for me. Upon that pipe, adhering to the partly detached flakes or wafers of rust, were human hairs of the color and fineness of the hairs on the head of John Dashwood. But they were also of the color and fineness of the hairs on the head of Cora Reesey. I might have been confused over the hairs had I not noticed one very long one, much longer than any that was ever upon the head of Dashwood. It was a woman's hair, and it was stuck to the rust with coagulated blood. "Now, convinced that Leonard had killed the woman, and had carried away Dashwood, who had been wounded by the woman--and I readily conjectured in what manner and under what circumstances the wound had been received--I instituted the search for Leonard, which resulted in the discovery at the sanatorium. I might not have succeeded but for Chick's assistance. Chick is a good one. He never missed a trick." Chick, who had been in a brown study, looked up, a question in his eyes. "Nick," said he, "we cleaned pretty well in St. Louis, but we left a mystery behind, all the same." "It is a matter of money, isn't it?" queried Nick, with a look of understanding. "Sure. Gabe Leonard saw Cora Reesey put fifteen thousand dollars in bank-notes in her bosom that night on the wharf. Now, when her dead body reached the morgue the money was gone. The coroner, having no idea of the identity of the corpse, and knowing nothing of any relations of a business nature or otherwise between a certain Madame Ree, a palmist, and Gabriel Leonard, manufacturer, did not look for missing money when he searched what was left of the woman's clothing. He found nothing of value. Even the rings on her fingers were gone." "Yes, I know that." "Well, what do you think? Did the fishes and the crabs eat the rings and the notes, or----" "Or was the body robbed before it reached the morgue? It was robbed, beyond the shadow of a doubt." "Then the Leonard-Dashwood-Reesey case cannot be considered closed until the mystery of that robbery shall have been solved. I have an idea that some day you will bump up against the robber." Nick laughed. "All sorts of things happen in this curious world," he said. CHAPTER X. A WASHINGTON MYSTERY. "No," continued Nick, "I am ready to take a short rest. The Leonard-Dashwood case is ended. The missing bank-notes are a small matter. Some common thief, a river roustabout, may have robbed the body." "I don't think so. I have no reason for my belief, so I must have an occult hunch, for I am eaten up with the idea that you are going to hear something regarding those notes before you are many months older." The telephone rang before Nick could reply to Chick's last remark. The great detective placed the receiver at his ear. "That you, Nick?" "Yes, inspector." "You're wanted in Washington. Come down to the office at once, if you can, and I'll explain."