Some time went by before the manager returned. “I can't trace the watch in the least. I think that mark must be a mistake, or a joke, though it's our own mark right enough.” He was obviously puzzled. “Could it be a watch you lent a customer in place of one left to be mended? Or what about your branch establishment in Bond Street?” The manager left him alone again and returned to say that he thought the Chief Inspector's suggestion highly probable, but that they had no record, even so, of the watch on their books. He recommended him to try their branch. Pointer thanked him and took another taxi. At Bond Street he found that the manager had 'phoned, and he was shown at once into a little room where he found a salesman waiting for him. “Chief Inspector Pointer? We've been going over our books. I think I may be able to help you.” The police-officer handed him his treasure. The man opened the case. “Yes, this is a watch I let a young gentleman have”—he laid it down and ran his finger along a ledger—“last Saturday morning. As a rule, we furnish no watches to our customers, but in this case we supplied him with one as a makeshift for his own very valuable repeater.” “Was this the young gentleman?” Pointer held out Eames' photo. The salesman identified him after a long scrutiny. “He wore a brown tweed suit and a soft brown felt hat.” “That's him,” muttered Pointer, drawing a deep breath. “He gave the name of Eames. But his repeater, I have it here, has another family's coat of arms engraved on the back. Do you know anything about heraldry, Inspector?” “A little.” “Well, of course, we have to, and besides—well frankly, the repeater was of a very superior kind, and the young man's clothes were not quite in keeping, you know what I mean?” Pointer secretly damned any interest in clothes just then. “Oh, quite! And the crest was?” “I recognised it at once, but as a mere matter of form I looked it up, as I thought it is that of the Perthshire branch of the Erskine family. Here is the repeater.” He laid it down beside the Scotland Yard man. “And now, I presume, I may take back this. And what about the charge for the spring we supplied?” Pointer assured him that that would doubtless be settled by the family. He asked the salesman how it was that he had missed the offer of a reward for the watch, and whether he had not noticed any likeness between his customer and the picture of the “Hotel suicide,” let alone the name of Eames which had been given in the Press. The shopman smiled a little wearily. “Stocktaking,” was his laconic excuse, “and besides our three lending watches don't go by number any more. They're too ancient for that.” Pointer left the shop with a buoyant tread just as the shutters went up.