"A Large Sum of Money has been Bequeathed to ---- Morgan, who is supposed to have been residing in Liverpool, where he was last seen about a year ago. Full particulars will be given to him upon application to Paul Godfrey, 719 Buckingham Palace Road." To reduce the chances of receiving letters from every Morgan in the kingdom, I wrote to Mrs. Barlow, requesting her to give me the date of her son's birth, his age, and whether he had any marks on his person by which he could be identified. Though it is running ahead of my narrative, I may state here that Mrs. Barlow supplied me with the date of her son's birth and his age (which particulars I inserted in the advertisement), and informed me that there were two marks on him which would render identification easy--a large mole on his left side, a little above the hip, and a peculiar formation in the toe next to the big toe on his right foot. It was bent completely under, she said, and presented the appearance of having been cut clean off at the joint. I went out at eleven o'clock that night to post my letters to Mrs. Barlow, and was returning home, deep in thought, when a hand was laid on my shoulder. "Good evening, Godfrey." The voice was Wheeler's, like myself a private detective, with whom I had worked on two or three cases. There was a talk of our going into partnership, but it had not yet come to a head. There are few smarter men than Wheeler. "Good evening," I said, and immediately began to consider whether he could be of use to me. "Anything stirring?" "Well," he answered, "I was coming to see you." "What about?" Instead of giving me a direct answer, he began to laugh, and said, "You were in Soho this evening." "Hallo," said I, interested immediately, "there's something in the wind. Did you see me there?" "No, but I saw you coming into Leicester Square." "How did you find me out?" I asked, rather nettled. "I thought my disguise a good one." "So it was. There isn't one in a thousand who would have recognized you. I happen to be that one. You see, Godfrey, when you are thinking of something very particular, you have a nasty habit of stroking your chin with the middle finger of your right hand." "Good," said I, "you will never catch me doing that again when I'm somebody else. Well?" "Seeing that, I took special notice of you, and followed you home to make sure. When you stopped at 719 Buckingham Palace Road, and let yourself in, I was satisfied it was you." "There's nothing very smart in that." "I don't say there is. I kept myself out of sight, for a reason you'll appreciate." "Out with it." "I wasn't the only one who was following you." "You don't mean to say I was being shadowed?" I cried, excitedly. "That is exactly what I do mean. 'I'll see this out,' said I to myself." "Man or woman?" "Man." "Did you catch sight of his face?"