Then he came back and made the announcement that there was a little delay; but that Dr. Holcomb would be there shortly. But he was not. At twelve o'clock there were still some people waiting. At one o'clock the last man had slipped out of the room--and wondered. In all the country there was but one person who knew. That one was an obscure man who had yielded to a detective's intuition and had fallen inadvertently upon one of the greatest mysteries of modern times. III “NOW THERE ARE TWO” The rest of the story is unfortunately all too easily told. We go back to Jerome and his strange companion. At Centre Street station they alighted and walked up to the university. Under the Le Conte oaks they met the professor. He was trim and happy, his short, well-built figure clothed in black, his snow-white whiskers trimmed to the usual square crop and his pink skin glowing with splendid health. The fog had by this time lifted and the sun was just beginning to overcome the chilliness of the air. There was no necessity for an introduction. The two men apparently recognised each other at once. So we have it from the detective. There was sincerity in the delight of their hand-clasp. A strange pair, both of them with the distinction and poise that come from refinement and intellectual training; though in physique they were almost opposite, there was still a strange, almost mutual, bond between them. Dr. Holcomb was beaming. “At last!” he greeted. “At last! I was sure we could not fail. This, my dear Dr. Avec, is the greatest day since Columbus.” The other took the hand. “So this is the great Dr. Holcomb. Yes, indeed, it is a great day; though I know nothing about your Columbus. So far it has been simply wonderful. I can scarcely credit my senses. So near and yet so far. How can it be? A dream? Are you sure, Dr. Holcomb?” “My dear Rhamda, I am sure that I am the happiest man that ever lived. It is the culmination. I was certain we could not fail; though, of course, to me also it is an almost impossible climax of fact. I should never have succeeded without your assistance.” The other smiled. “That was of small account, my dear doctor. To yourself must go the credit; to me the pleasure. Take your sun, for instance, I--but I have not the language to tell you.” But the doctor had gone in to abstraction. “A great day,” he was beaming. “A great day! What will the world say? It is proved.” Then suddenly: “You have eaten?” “Not yet. You must allow me a bit of time. I thought of it; but I had not quite the courage to venture.” “Then we shall eat,” said the other man. “Afterward we shall go up to the lecture-room. Today I shall deliver my lecture on the Blind Spot. And when I am through you shall deliver the words that will astonish the world.” But here it seems there was a hitch. The other shook his head kindly. It was evident that while the doctor was the leader, the other was a co-worker who must be considered.