“There is nothing in the pockets,” he finally said. “Not a blessed thing. Now for the tailor. Ah!” “What is it?” asked Maynard, as Nick gave a start of surprise. “The clothes,” he said, “were made in Paris by Mons. Dumond. Here is the mark of the firm on the inner side of the collar. Careless thing to leave that mark here. It tells a great deal.” “I see no name there,” said Maynard. “Of course not,” said the detective, “but the trade-mark of the firm is here. I have seen it before under similar circumstances. Dumond makes clothes for actors; and has also been nicknamed the thieves’ tailor. In other words, he makes duplicates, imitations, disguises, and all sorts of trick garments. He is known by the better class of rascals the world over.” “Then we can easily learn the name of the person who ordered this suit.” CHAPTER XII. THE HUSTLING REPORTER. Nick smiled at the simplicity of the young man. “Dumond has a reputation for keeping his mouth shut,” he said, “and that is the reason he has built up such a profitable business. Go to him to-morrow with this suit, trade-mark and all, and he will swear that the trade-mark is a forgery, and that he never saw the clothes before.” “Do you think the woman came to America in quest of these diamonds?” asked Maynard. Nick did not reply immediately. He was examining a comb and brush which lay upon a dresser at the head of the bed. “Look here,” he finally said, turning to Maynard with the brush and comb in his hand, “the woman could not resist the temptation to primp before the mirror. And she left hairs in the brush and the comb.” Maynard took the brush into his hand. “What do you see there?” asked Nick. “Not black hairs, certainly. Short red hairs.” “Exactly.” “But this person was dark,” insisted Maynard; “at least so described by the clerk.” “Also described by the clerk as a man,” said Nick, with a smile. “How do you know that these hairs were not left here by some former occupant of the room?” asked the young man. “Because,” was the reply, “she combed her hair, after removing her black wig, before she removed her clothes. There were short red hairs on the collar of the coat she wore.” “A red-haired woman,” mused Maynard. “Very slender and with black eyes,” added Nick. “She couldn’t color her eyes, you know, and the clerk said they were black. We may also add a very nice white complexion.” Nick went to the washstand in the corner of the room and pointed to a black sediment on the sides of the bowl. The piece of toilet soap which lay on the marble top was also rimmed with black. The interior of the bowl and the surface of the soap were still moist. “There is where she washed off her face stain,” said Nick. “So we have a slender, red-haired, fair-complexioned woman, about five feet three, according to the clothes, with very small feet and hands.” “How do you know about the feet and hands?” asked the young man.