“If you will stand here beside me you will see the gap in the railing caused by the breaking away of the fragment which now lies on Mr. Meyer's desk. Some few yards to the left in the street below is where the assault took place, of which we have heard, and the unfortunate Mr. De Lana, who was dining here alone--an eccentric custom of his--naturally ran to the window upon hearing the disturbance and leaned out, supporting his weight upon the railing. The rail collapsed, and--we know the rest.” “It will ruin me,” groaned Meyer; “it will give bad repute to my establishment.” “I fear it will,” agreed Harley sympathetically, “unless we can manage to clear up one or two little difficulties which I have observed. For instance”--he tapped the proprietor on the shoulder confidentially--“have you any idea, any hazy idea, of the identity of the woman who was dining here with Mr. De Lana on Wednesday night?” The effect of this simple inquiry upon the proprietor was phenomenal. His fat yellow face assumed a sort of leaden hue, and his already prominent eyes protruded abnormally. He licked his lips. “I tell you--already I tell you,” he muttered, “that Mr. De Lana he engage this room every Wednesday and sometimes also Friday, and dine here by himself.” “And I tell you,” said Harley sweetly, “that you are an inspired liar. You smuggled her out by the side entrance after the accident.” “The side entrance?” muttered Meyer. “The side entrance?” “Exactly; the side entrance. There is something else which I must ask you to tell me. Who had engaged this room on Tuesday night, the night before the accident?” The proprietor's expression remained uncomprehending, and: “A gentleman,” he said. “I never see him before.” “Another solitary diner?” suggested Harley. “Yes, he is alone all the evening waiting for a friend who does not arrive.” “Ah,” mused Harley--“alone all the evening, was he? And his friend disappointed him. May I suggest that he was a dark man? Gray at the temples, having a dark beard and moustache, and a very tanned face? His eyes slanted slightly upward?” “Yes! yes!” cried Meyer, and his astonishment was patently unfeigned. “It is a friend of yours?” “A friend of mine, yes,” said Harley absently, but his expression was very grim. “What time did he finally leave?” “He waited until after eleven o'clock. The dinner is spoilt. He pays, but does not complain.” “No,” said Harley musingly, “he had nothing to complain about. One more question, my friend. When the lady escaped hurriedly on Wednesday night, what was it that she left behind and what price are you trying to extort from her for returning it?” At that the man collapsed entirely. “Ah, Gott!” he cried, and raised his hand to his clammy forehead. “You will ruin me. I am a ruined man. I don't try to extort anything. I run an honest business------”