But, even as Cleggett looked, this remarkable exhibition ceased; the Wilton Barnstable look dominated the faces again. Plump, yet dignified, smiling easily and kindly, three plain business men looked at him; respectable citizens, commonplace citizens, a little smug; faces that spoke of comfort, method, regularity; eyes that seemed to wink with the pressure of platitudes in the minds behind them; platitudes that desired to force their way to the lips and out into the world. Yes, such was the genius of Wilton Barnstable that he could at will impose himself upon people as the apotheosis of the commonplace. He did it often. It was almost second nature to him now. His urbane smile was the only visible sign of his own enjoyment of this habitual feat. He knew his own genius, and smiled to think how easy it was to pass for an average man! CHAPTER XXI THE THIRD OBLONG BOX ARRIVES "I think," said Wilton Barnstable, when Cleggett had finished, "that I may be able to clear up a few points for you. "The two men whom you saw me hazing up and down the bank of the canal, and whom you saw again tonight, followed by the man in the baby blue silk pajamas, were Dopey Eddie and Izzy the Cat!" "The wretches!" cried Lady Agatha. "Wretches indeed," said Wilton Barnstable, Barton Ward, and Watson Bard, in unison, and with conviction. "And the man in the baby blue silk pajamas, was----" the great detective paused, as if to make his revelation more effective. And while he paused, Miss Genevieve Pringle, with pursed lips and averted face, signified that the very idea of introducing a man in baby blue silk pajamas into the conversation was intensely displeasing to her. "The man in pajamas was Reginald Maltravers," finished the great detective. "Reginald Maltravers!" cried Lady Agatha. She opened her mouth again as if to say something more, but words failed her, and she only stared at the detective, with parted lips and round eyes. Cleggett went to her and touched her on the arm, and with the touch she gave a sob of emotion and found her tongue again. "Reginald Maltravers," she said, "is not dead then! Not dead after all!" She endeavored to control herself, but for a moment or two she trembled. It was evident that it was all she could do to keep from crying hysterically with relief. The nightmare that had haunted her for days had vanished almost too suddenly. Presently she began to be herself again. "You are sure that he is not dead?" she said with a voice that still shook. "Sure," said Wilton Barnstable. And as if quietly satisfied with the sensation they had produced, the three detectives smiled at each other urbanely and contentedly. Barnstable continued: "Reginald Maltravers came to my agency some days ago and requested a bodyguard. Dopey Eddie and Izzy the Cat had attacked him, no doubt intending to earn the money which Elmer had promised them. He beat them off. In fact, he caned them soundly. But they still continued to dog him.