Ellery had no definite idea that the writing-room would yield a clue, but he thought that he might as well have a look round. He glanced at the blotting pads which lay on each table, only to see that the blotting paper was evidently changed very frequently. But, picking up one of the blotters he discovered that, while the top sheet was practically clean, the old used sheets of blotting paper had been left underneath. Rapidly he examined every sheet. On several he saw marks of Carter Woodman’s writing, and of his large bold signature. This, however, showed only that Woodman often used the room. So far it bore out his story. The pads bore impressions of several other handwritings; but only one other recurred frequently. Ellery was able to make out the signature by holding the paper up to the light. The writing was curious and quite unmistakable. The name of the writer was Ba Pu—evidently an Oriental. Ellery had an idea. It was a chance and no more; but he made up his mind to see Ba Pu, if he was still in the hotel, and to put a few questions. Returning to the hall he asked the porter the number of his room. “Oh, you mean the Burmese gentleman,” said the porter. “He has a suite on the first floor. His sitting-room is No. 17. He came in only a few minutes ago.” Ellery made his way to No. 17 and knocked. The Burmese—a small, dark-skinned man with curious twinkling little eyes and quick movements—was in his room and received him with ready courtesy. Ellery presented his card and apologised for intruding upon him. “Oh, no,” said the Burmese. “You not intrude. Very please.” “You may think it very strange of me,” said Ellery, “but may I ask you a question without explaining fully why I ask it? It is on a matter of real importance.” “Ask. Yes,” said the Burmese. “I help if I can.” He spoke English quickly and jerkily, but he evidently understood the language well. “I very glad meet you, Mr. Ellery. I Burmese, come here study the British conditions. Go back Burma tell my people all about this country. You help me. I help you.” “Then that is a bargain, and I can ask you my question at once. Did you use the writing-room opposite here at any time on the evening of Tuesday, the 17th of this month?” “Why, that the very day I come here. Yes, I use him that night. I came here study your conditions. I want meet all your famous men. I go there write letters ask them meet me. I write your Mr. Bernard Shaw, your Mr. Wells, your Mr. Arnold Bennett.” Ellery interrupted. “Can you tell me at what time that evening you were in the writing-room?” “Yes, I tell you. I come here to stay. Evening I wish write letters. I wish at once to meet your famous men. I go to writing-room door. I peep in. I see gentleman there, writing. He not notice me; but I shy. I steal away.” “What time was that?” “Eleven by the clock—no earlier. It was what you call eleven less a quarter.” “I see, about 10.45.”